


punch above your weight

by curnon



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boxing, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Ben Solo is a Mess, Boxing & Fisticuffs, Doctor/Patient, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Injury Recovery, Pain Train, Rey is a doctor, Serious Injuries, Slow Burn, Some Alcohol Use, Swearing, Violence, mutual respect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:15:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27000334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curnon/pseuds/curnon
Summary: Ben Solo's boxing career as Kylo Ren comes to a screeching halt when an illegal hit puts him in hospital. Doctor Rey Niima is an intern who is just doing her best to survive her first year, her trial by fire. The two meet in the emergency room, both unaware of how intertwined their lives would become. Rebuilding your life from the ground up isn't easy, but being in love with someone off limits is even harder.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 86
Kudos: 317
Collections: Ijustfellintothissendhelp





	1. No guts, no glory

The gym smelled of stale sweat and rotting wood. Built into an old warehouse downtown, it was sparsely filled with old, slightly rusted weights equipment and grumpy old men not ready to admit they were past their prime. The middle of the gym housed the boxing ring, its floor worn and torn in places, but it was good enough. Solo had spent an hour working on the weights, and had done a punishing forty-five minutes on the punching bag. He couldn’t feel his knuckles bleeding through the hand-wraps, but he could see deep red seeping through the white and transferring onto the leather of the punching bag. Any longer and Phasma would kick his ass for trashing her bags. He stopped, picked his water bottle up off the ground and sat on a nearby bench, watching a few of the younger members scrap in the middle of the ring.

Phas appeared nearby, leaning a knee on the bench he was crouched on, “Bad day?

“No more so than usual.”

“Looked like you wanted to murder the bag.”

“Better the bag than someone in the street.”

“Can’t argue with that logic. You can replace it if it gets Hep C though.”

“I’ll wipe it down. Get off my ass.”

She huffed in a way that said, _‘you fucking better’_ , the gym was constantly under health code inspections, and while they technically passed every time, Ben wasn’t sure how many other gyms in the city had weekly inspections. He waited for his heart rate to settle, before grabbing a bottle of the disinfectant off the wall and wiping the bag down, taking care to clear off the spots of dried blood. He looked up at the ring again, and shook his head, he’d have to call it quits today. His muscles ached and his anger was all but gone for the time being, getting in the ring would just be a waste of energy before tomorrow. Heading for the showers, he grabbed his sweat towel and his water bottle. Phasma nodded at him as he made his way to the change rooms, a nod that said ‘ _god you’re a prick, see you tomorrow_ ’. She was as good as it got in terms of gym owners and managers. He wasn’t about to complain, but if he had to he would say that Phasma was a bit of a cunt.

Showered and changed into his standard all black attire, Ben made his way outside through the warehouse doors and into the alleyway. His bike was parked nearby in his usual spot. Matte black and as angry looking as he felt, the motorbike felt like an extension of him. He rode home, weaving his way through the Takodanatraffic, earning himself a few angry shouts to which he replied with a middle finger. Home was as empty as the gym. A television mounted on the wall, a couch suitable for just him, exposed beams and brick walls, a kitchen with only the bare essentials, the place barely felt inhabitable, but it was his. No one could take that from him. He pulled a pre-cooked meal from the stack in the fridge, roasted beef and a pile of vegetables he’d prepared on Sunday. Ben was sick of eating the same meal every day, but it was the nutrition his body needed, especially before tomorrows big fight.

It was a grudge match. He needed to win it. The last time he and Hux had faced off, Ben had KO’d him in the second round and Hux had vowed revenge. It was standard protocol for boxing. Only, that had been over a year ago, and Hux had new management since then - Snoke. Ruthless, coldhearted, and bloodthirsty, Snoke had it out for Ben ever since he found a way to void their contract six years ago. He’d rather be managed by Phasma who didn’t care if Ben ate or slept like a fucking racoon, than by Snoke who had controlled his every waking moment. It wasn’t that Solo didn’t think he could beat Hux, it’s that he was worried what might happen if he did. Snoke was vicious. Didn’t like to lose, and didn’t take it lying down. Ben wouldn’t be surprised if he came home to find a group of masked bastards taking a tire iron to all of his meagre belongings before going for his shins. Another complicating matter was the publicity. Ben fought minor league. He had no intention of going major, he didn’t fight for money or for fame, but because he was good at it. That had been part of his disagreement with Snoke all those years ago - he’d wanted to turn him into some money-making machine, and Ben had wanted none of it. Snoke had turned his family against him, his friends, isolated him from everything he knew, and it took Ben having his collarbone snapped in a fight he had been out of his depth for, for Ben to realise it.

Ben Solo could beat Armitage Hux. The only question was, was it worth it?

Unfortunately, it was too late to back out. Instead, he drank a glass of neat whiskey, and went to bed and slept dreamlessly.

oOo

The crowd was filling the arena slowly but surely. Some people got there early to get drinks and try and steal seats that weren’t in their assigned rows. Ben had bought a pair of noise cancelling headphones, and did as he always did pre-fight, sat in the change room and listened to a playlist he’d made years ago. It was tradition - or superstition - he didn’t dwell on it. He checked the bench next to him - water, mouth guard, hand wrap, gloves. Anxiously, he stood up and evaluated his appearance in the mirror. He’d pulled his hair back into a half-up arrangement, his black shorts sat at his waist, and the gold detailing on the band read ‘KYLO REN’. He sat back down on the bench, flicking through songs on his phone. A message popped up, reminding him he’d forgotten to put the thing on flight mode.

**Han**

Good luck tonight.

Ben grimaced. He didn’t like the idea of his parents knowing about his fights. He didn’t like the idea of his parents knowing anything about his life. He quickly switched the phone to flight mode, and flicked through the songs again before finding something that worked. Ben leant down, untied and retied his shoes again. Phas appeared in his periphery, and she waved him towards the door. It was time.

oOo

The news was playing it before the EMT call came through the emergency room phone. The EMT’s said - Incoming trauma, confirmed head injury, GCS 7 hypertensive, bradycardic - increased intracranial pressure. The news said - “Hux’s lowbrow hit sends Ren to hospital”. Rey was gowning up as the ambulance pulled into the ramp, the senior resident was taking the handover from the paramedics - 34 year old male, boxer, took a punch to the back of the head about twenty minutes ago, loss of consciousness on the scene and has been drifting in and out of consciousness since, GCS 9 on the scene and now is 7, no other wounds. Combative and agitated - likely due to the intracranial pressure. The man had soft restraints at his wrists, clearly he’d had a go at fighting the paramedics.

“Niima, call OR 4 and page neuro,” The senior resident ordered. Rey was already reaching for the wall phone, asking the switchboard to put her through to the surgical theatres, “When you’re done, we need to sedate him, he’s going to raise that pressure if he gets any more agitated.” Rey nodded, letting her know she understood. The OR was booked and neurosurgery had been paged, she quickly accessed the emergency sedatives by using her code to unlock the drawer, quickly drawing up the drug and wiping his arm with an alcohol wipe, pushing the sedative through. Within moments he began to calm, and the monitors on his chest showed the slowing of his heart rate, and Rey breathed a sigh of relief - better, but not out of the woods yet. She had the confirmation from neuro come to her pager, and she let the team know they were ready to operate. She watched as they wheeled the gurney into the elevator, the doors closing. Rey always hated this part. He’d go to surgery, he’d either make it or he wouldn’t, but she would never find out. She hated working shifts in emergency, and thanked the Force she had only one more week left in emergency before she rotated to another unit in the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd really appreciate your feedback on this - it's been living rent free in my mind, and I'd like to hear your thoughts - I have a general idea of where I'd like to take this, but I'm open to suggestions. Also un-beta'd so go easy on the grammar etc, working on it haha
> 
> Also, sorry it's short - chapters will get longer, I promise.


	2. Rebirth

Ticking. Fucking ticking. Ben couldn’t get away from it, for all he tried. It was driving him insane. He wasn’t sure what it was - he didn’t have a clock in his apartment that had a fucking second hand so what was it. His eyes were still closed, and his body ached - but he’d have to get up eventually and find the source of the ticking. Hard as he tried, he couldn’t get his eyes to open. He heard a voice - an unfamiliar one - and his heart jumped into his throat - someone was in his house.

“Ben,” The voice said softly, it was a woman’s voice, “Ben, you’re okay. We’re just having a little chat about how you’re doing.”

_What the fuck? What did that_ mean _?_

He tried speaking but all that came out was a groan, and a gentle hand placed itself on his shoulder - trying to calm him again he imagined. The ticking. The ticking was still fucking there. He could feel a presence of people around him, and he wondered if he was having a nightmare. Ben tried what he always tried, grounding himself. He thought about what he did yesterday, what he ate for dinner - usually in his nightmares his brain would pick things he’d never eaten, so he knew it wasn’t real. Only now, he couldn’t remember. He tried to think about the date, and he couldn’t do that either. He needed to open his eyes, needed to see where he was. He tried to speak again, another groan. Instead, he tried to hone in on the voice.

“Three days post-op…successful craniotomy…afebrile, obs stable….unconscious but rousable to voice…last CT was yesterday…family is coming to visit this afternoon…”

_Post-op? Was he in a fucking hospital?_

Ben’s brain couldn’t take it. Or maybe it was the sedative the nurse pushed through his IV. Either way, the voices faded one more and Ben slipped back into a comfortable sleep.

oOo

_“You’re going to kill yourself if you keep throwing punches like that.”_

_“What do you care?”_

_“You want to train in my gym, you’ll not die on the premises. My roof, my rules.”_

_Phasma was a tall woman. As tall as Ben, so when she put her foot down, her eyes always met his on even playing field. Ben wouldn’t say that she intimidated him, but occasionally he would shit his pants when she shouted, usually at someone else. She’d all but given up on Ben’s careless attitude, but she’d yet to give up on his shitty form._

_“Maybe that shit was okay when you were Snoke’s bitch, but it doesn’t fly here. Fix your form or fuck off.”_

_“Is that you offering to help me?”_

_“Are you going to ask nicely?”_

_“No.”_

_“Then no.”_

_Ben groaned, throwing another loose formed hook at the punching bag, immediately regretting it as one of his rotator cuffs of his right shoulder screamed in protest, “Fuck.” He hissed, Phas looking far too pleased with herself for comfort._

_“I told you.”_

_“Help me.”_

_“Help you, what?”_

_“I’m not going to say please.”_

_“Then you already know my answer. No.”_

_“Not even for a bottle of Makers Mark?”_

_“You’re a prick, Solo.”_

_He stood, waiting for her to walk away or turn back around. He stifled the pride he felt as she turned around, her glare deadly. She walked back over to him._

_“Make it two bottles. Don’t throw your fist until your stance is right.”_

oOo

The emergency department was empty - no one was ever game enough to use the Q word, it was cursed after all. She sat at one of the computers at the nurses station, filing her discharge notes and printing off patient advice sheets for some of the more minor injuries she’d had come through in the last hour. It was grunt work, but it kept her busy, and kept her focused.

Recently, she’d been living at work. Her car had three changes of clothes, and four sets of scrubs. She’d showered more times in the change room than in her own apartment. Her work hours were killing her. Finn - her best friend - had messaged her twice a day for the last week to check to see if she’d eaten and drunk enough water. He worked for an engineering firm, clocked in at 9 and was at the pub by 4.30. She sort of envied him - but also she loved her job. 8 years of university had been worth it. She was Doctor Rey Niima, and that was something no one could take away from her. And yet, her rotation through the emergency department of Takodana Hospital had been soul crushing. Three months she’d spent here, watching people come in and never leave, watching people come in who could have simply gone to their primary care physician in the morning, and watching people never even make it out of the ambulance. She’d like to think of herself as an optimist, but the ER had smacked that right out of her. “ _Fix and flick_ ” the senior resident had called it. Rey wanted more from her work, and she hoped she’d get that from the neurology rotation that started next week. She wanted to see patient progress, she wanted to get to know them, get to know their families, to feel like she was part of something bigger than just slapping some sutures and a dressing on an avocado hand.

“So your last shift down here is when?” The senior resident, Dr Atkins, asked her without looking up from her pager.

“Uh, Saturday night.”

“Ooph, they stung you with a night shift as your send off?”

“I guess it’s not really a send off,” Rey said, fixing a few typos on the discharge summary, “I’m only moving upstairs.”

“We’ll miss you down here, you’re level headed unlike some of the interns they send us.”

Rey smiled at Dr Atkins, feeling a slight pang of guilt for how much she hated the department, so instead she said, “I’ve learnt a lot here.”

By the time she’d finished speaking Dr Atkins had already walked off, and if that didn’t summarise her experience in the ER, she didn’t know what would. The guilt gone.

oOo

**Rey**

I am officially off the ER payroll.

**Finn**

Thank fuck for that

Where’s next?

**Rey**

Neurology

Hopefully it’s better, I don’t know if I can stand another three months of achieving nothing

**Finn**

It’s still early days, you’ll find something you like sooner or later

You want to get dinner this week?

**Rey**

What is… this dinner… you speak of?

**Finn**

I’m taking that as a no

So long friend, it was nice knowing you

**Rey**

We had a good run, in college

**Finn**

Are you mental?

You had this little free time at college too

**Rey**

Married to medicine, Takodana edition.

oOo

Rey’s new senior resident was incredible. Not only was he the kindest doctor she’d met so far at Takodana Hospital, he was the funniest and most eager to teach. The neurology department was high stakes - he told her - but they weren’t the neurosurgeons so everyone had a little less of the god complex one might assume. Usually, they dealt with the medical issues neurosurgery thought were beneath them. His name was Poe Dameron, but he never let her call him Doctor Dameron, always Poe. He’d bought her a coffee her first morning, sat her down in the staff break room, and talked her through their current patient list.

Bed 1 was Holly Newman, 16, epilepsy - a frequent flier, Poe had called her, in every few months or so, having a really hard time getting her meds right.

Bed 2 was Jasper Forman, 76, post-stroke, waiting for a bed to free up at the geriatrics rehab centre. Medically well, able to ambulate with assistance.

Bed 3 was Anna Davies, 46, multiple sclerosis, another frequent flier, this was her third presentation this year with neurological deficits lasting more than a week each. Poe had grimly told her that Ms Davies probably going to need a wheelchair by the end of the year.

Bed 4 was Benjamin Solo, 34, traumatic brain injury, 8 days post-op craniotomy for subdural haematoma. Recovering from ventilator associated pneumonia, antibiotics finished yesterday and had remained afebrile overnight. Mild aphasia and left sided weakness. Seeing speech pathology daily.

Poe took her through the rest of the list, and she made notes as best she could in the margins of her patient notes. He asked her if she had any questions, and recognised the look of absolute overload. Poe gave her a soft laugh, and then wrote his personal cell number on top of her patient notes, and said, “If you have any issues, you just call me. We don’t let interns drown up here.”

The weight had lifted off of her shoulders with that. It’s not as though Rey needed to be coddled, but _fuck_ just some support from a senior doctor was a blessing in the Force.

Rey introduced herself to the nursing staff, and wrote her cell and pager numbers on the whiteboard in the doctors office, just behind the nurses station. She followed Poe on the rounds, introducing herself to each of the patients. By the time they got to Bed 4, she felt as though she had a small spring in her step, maybe neurology was the mood booster she’d needed after the never ending hellscape of the emergency room.

“Good morning Ben,” Poe said with a smile, “This is Doctor Niima, she’s joining the team. How are you feeling this morning?”

Benjamin gave him a thumbs up, staring up at the ceiling, his face as neutral as if he’d never heard them. Rey gave a small frown, not remembering that there had been issue to his affect mentioned in the notes.

“Is the blunted affect from the injury?” She asked Poe quietly. A dark laugh in the room alerted her to a man sitting in the visitors chair in the corner.

The man had his legs propped up on the end of Benjamin’s bed, “No, he’s just an asshole.”

“Oh,” Rey said, taken aback by the bluntness of the visitor, “I’m sure that’s not true.” She added, giving Benjamin a smile even though he refused to look at them.

“No,” Benjamin said, his voice strained, “He’s right.”

Poe gave Rey a small smile, “Rey, this is Han, Ben’s dad.” Rey gave him a polite, ‘nice to meet you’, but was all in all thrown off by the mood in the room. Sure enough, she hadn’t necessarily expected the mood to be upbeat given Benjamin’s injury, but the stark contrast to the other rooms was a bit of a shock. Poe nodded at her, giving her the go ahead to examine Ben.

“I met you downstairs when you came in, Benjamin. You probably don’t remember. You were having a hard time staying awake.” She said as she walked over to him, placing her fingertips over his pulse in his wrist, checking her watch as she counted the beats - strong, regular, 74 per minute. Perfect. She pulled the blood pressure cuff off the wall and wrapped it around his right arm, inflating it with ease as she tucked the end of her stethoscope beneath it, listening for the cues she needed.

“Don’t remember much of anything.”

“Do you have memory gaps from before your injury?”

“No. Remember that fine.”

“Do you remember how you got injured?”

“No. Just what I’ve seen.”

His blood pressure was fine, she checked his pupils and they were even and reacting to light as they should. She had a listen to his chest, the pneumonia seemed to have cleared well. They gave Benjamin and his dad the plan for the day, the speech pathologist would be past to seem him, and then the physical therapist in the afternoon to come up with a plan about his weakness. Once their round was done, Rey joined Poe in the office, and asked the question that had been bothering her all morning.

“What did Benjamin mean when he said, ‘just what I’ve seen’?”

“Oh, the fight was televised, so there’s videos of the hit that took him down all over the internet.”

“Oh my god.”

“Here.” Poe said, rolling his chair over to one of the computers, bringing up YouTube and searching for the video, before tilting the screen for her to see. There was Benjamin, shirtless and moving gracefully around the boxing ring. Rey had never been into physical sports like boxing or martial arts, but she could appreciate their skill. Her chest filled with dread as he swung at his opponent who ducked out of the way, and as Benjamin stumbled forward, his opponent turned around and hit him hard at the junction between his neck and the back of his head.

“Cowards punch, king hit, whatever you want to call it.” Poe said, closing the tab on the computer. He must have seen the look on her face, because he said, “It’s shocking, I know. Probably ended poor Ben’s career, but at least he’s alive.”

oOo

Ben wished he was just fucking dead. He couldn’t lift his left hand to wipe his ass if he had even wanted to. He couldn’t walk to the bathroom like a human being, so he had to shit in a bed pan like a degenerate. It was humiliating. When he’d finally come out of the post-op drug haze they’d had him in, he’d come to the realisation that there were a lot of words he couldn’t wrap his mouth around - that his speech was fucked up, that the left side of his body had decided that it no longer wanted to function, and it was all Snoke’s fault.

He’d been worried about what Snoke might do to him if he’d won, but he’d never thought Snoke would go so far as to end both his and Hux’s careers. Hux had been immediately banned from the league. Ben had won on a technicality, but would anyone call this winning? Shitting in your own hospital bed while nurses come by and ask if you’re ready to pass them the pan of your shit? No. Ben probably wouldn’t fight ever again, not with the state of his body the way it was. He’d be lucky if he’d ever walk unaided again.

Han had visited him everyday, which Ben didn’t necessarily see as a good thing. Han sat there, silently concerned, silently giving Ben “ _I-Told-You-So_ ” looks but not admitting to it, the coward. Leia hadn’t come to visit once. Probably off doing damage control for her political career, as always. Ever the community facing Governor. The thought of it turned his mouth to ash. He spent his days looking up at the ceiling, not making eye contact with any of the cheery staff. Who the fuck did they think they were? Chirpy fucking bastards.

Phasma visited him once, soon after he got there. She apologised, he wasn’t sure why. The crack in her hard exterior set him on edge, so he’d promptly told her to ‘fuck off’ and she’d seemed relieved by the dismissal. She’d sent him text messages checking in instead, but because he only had one hand to use these days, texting took too long so he avoided it as much as he could. Over the week he’d been there, some of his words started coming back, and some of the strength in his left leg started to return. He could almost hop around when the physical therapist came past. They sent a psychiatrist in to speak to him one day, and Ben spent the whole hour he’d been in the room staring at the ceiling not answering his questions. He’d wondered what his patient notes had looked like, “catatonic”, “asshole”, “completely checked out from reality”.

The only reprieve so far from the monotony of ward life had been Dr Niima. She had an accent, British, he thought, and her hands weren’t ice cold like so many of the other staff. He’d been a dick to her, but he didn’t owe her any more than that. He was the cripple for _fuck_ sake. Let him wallow in self-pity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got really excited to get a second chapter out - please let me know what you think!


	3. We all have our reasons

Rey had settled into the neurology team well. She knew everyones coffee orders, and whether or not they had pets or partners or kids at home. She knew a few of the frequent fliers, and which neurosurgeons to call to avoid dealing with any arseholes. The turnover of patients was steady, but Bed 4 remained Ben Solo’s. He was at week three of his admission, and he was making massive headway. He’d also begged her to stop calling him Benjamin. The speech pathologist had cleared his aphasia, saying he was as good as they could get him, back to using full sentences and only having trouble picking his words every now and then, something that would improve over time. Rey was really proud of him, not that he’d ever let her say that to him. He was a surly man, that much was clear, he had a chip on his shoulder but he wouldn’t let her in to know exactly what it was. She didn’t pry, it wasn’t her job. Although, she had to admit she was getting what she’d wanted out of her job - she knew her patients, she knew their families, and she knew that she was making a difference.

She’d been shifted to nights this week, and so she’d taken the rare opportunity to have an early dinner with Finn after he finished work. It was the first time she had seen him in weeks and weeks, and she almost cried as she hugged him. He beamed as she recounted her (de-identified, of course) stories from work, she told him all about the team, about Poe - he had so many questions about Poe, and Rey had said to him if she survived the year, she’d introduce the two of them. Finn had walked her to work, and Rey felt human for the first time in a while, not just an over-worked, under-fed machine. 

Come 6pm, she was on the ward starting her evening round. She checked that patients had their night medications, that everyones obs were stable, that everyone had been showered. She checked in on acute patients, made sure everyone was safe. Around 8pm the hospital dims the hallway lights, and things start to quieten down. Rey had seen Ben quickly, but he hadn’t been in a chatty mood (was he ever…) so she’d left him to get himself ready for bed. He’d regained the strength in his left arm completely, so he was able to move himself around with ease in a wheelchair, and she swore the day she told him he was allowed to go to the toilet and shower himself, she’s never seen someone look so grateful. She wished all days were like that one, the memory of the only time she’d seen him smile, dimples tucking at the edge of his mouth, would be seared into her memory forever.

Rey sat at the nurses station, drinking a coffee she’d let go cold hours ago, as she worked through some of the referral paperwork for planned morning discharges - she wanted the day team to have to do as little as possible when they arrived in the morning. She worked diligently, until something caught her eye - well, someone. A woman was standing in the dimly lit hallway, just outside Ben’s room.

“Excuse me,” Rey said in a hushed tone, “visiting hours ended at 5pm. Is there anything I help you with?”

The woman turned to her, and Rey got a good look at her from the light behind the nurses station. She was a short woman, but her primly done hair gave her extra height. There was something oddly familiar about her, and Rey couldn’t put her finger on it until she spoke.

“I’m very sorry, the night staff usually let me come by, I don’t have time during the day to visit. I don’t wake him.”

Governor Leia Organa.

“Oh, ma’am.” Rey said, ducking her head as she acknowledged the woman, “I can imagine your schedule is very busy, but unfortunately our patients need rest. The visiting hours are strict, I’m sorry, at least while I’m on shift. I can tell him you stopped by, if you like.”

“No,” Leia said quickly, “No, he wouldn’t like that. There’s no need. Thank you, Doctor Niima.” She was gone as suddenly as she had appeared, leaving Rey looking at the space where she had been, wondering how the Governor had known her name.

oOo

Ben was showering twice a day, just because he could. He washed his hair every second day, just to give himself something to do. His lack of visitors hadn’t changed. The only person that came by to see him was his father, and the last time he turned up with his old set of ‘ _Rock ‘em Sock 'em Robots_ ’ Ben had thrown his apple juice carton at him, sending the drink clattering to the ground when Han ducked.

“Do you think that’s funny?”

“Yeah, a little.”

“Asshole.”

“Son of mine.”

There had been tension in the air, until Ben sighed and said, “You be blue, I’ll be red.” They set the game up on Ben’s table, the one that slid over his bed for him to eat his meals on, and Ben sat cross-legged on one side, and Han on the other. They had played for a few hours, only making the game more and more interesting to themselves by increasing the stakes. Ben now owed his father the keys to his motorbike - Ben didn’t care, it’s not like he’d be riding the damn thing any time soon.

They never spoke about the fight. They didn’t even talk about Snoke, or his mother, or his uncle, or really anything. Han read Ben the daily news headlines when Ben was in a foul mood and didn’t want to talk about anything at all, and sometimes they talked about the sports results - anything but the boxing. Ben was carrying a tightness in his chest, one that he knew the psychiatrist tried to dig out of him - the grief, he was feeling. Boxing had been his escape, his life. Now, he wasn’t so sure. With his arm back to strength, he was starting to dream that it might be possible, that maybe he could get back in the ring, get back to his old life. It was his leg that was the issue.

Doctor Niima - Rey, she’d insisted he call her - had moved to nights, and Ben had to admit he missed her morning rounds, he was back to ice cold fingers taking his pulse and rough hands taking his blood pressure. Instead, she’d stick her head into his room around 6am and wake him up, take his vitals quickly while he was still half asleep, say a ‘good morning’ as her ‘good night’, then she’d go home after the day team arrived. After almost a week of this, by the last morning the bags under her eyes were deep, and her usual cheery attitude had started to sink.

“You’re seeming more and more like me.” He said to her that last evening after she’d come past to ask if he needed anything. She’d been confused by the comment so he’d explained, “You look exhausted, not as happy. I heard the day staff saying you’ve been doing their paperwork for them before they even get here, saves them a whole lot of time.”

She somehow managed to summon a beaming smile at that.

“Why do you do it?”

“It makes the day teams job easier.”

“But it makes yours harder.”

“Not really, I’m here anyways. Besides, it’s nice to know I make a difference to some people.”

“Nobody really feels that way.”

“How do you mean, Ben?”

“Nobody is that _good_.”

“Not all the time, but I like to try to be, as best I can.” Was her answer, smiling widely at him before going back to her jobs. Ben settled into his hospital bed, a sour taste in his mouth. He had trouble believing Dr Rey Niima. No one was that pure, that well intentioned, without carrying some fucked up secret, something they were hiding from. He rolled over, trying to get comfortable, and wishing all of a sudden he’d asked for something to help him sleep as his mind kept replaying her words, over and over.

oOo

_Snoke stood over him, his foot pressed into his chest. The fight was over, Kylo Ren had lost -_ Ben _had lost. Snoke sneered down at him, the disappointment seeping through every fibre of his being. Ben had let him down, Snoke was disappointed, in_ him _. Ben was in absolute agony, he was clutching his shoulder where he’d felt the crack, hot tears stinging at the back of his eyes, but he would not let any of them fall in front of Snoke._

_“Get up, you pathetic piece of shit.”_

_“I need a doctor.”_

_Snoke spat at him, “You need a pair of balls.”_

_“I told you I wasn’t ready to fight him.” He choked out. Ben was still lying on the floor of the ring, the crowd still very much present and cheering, the announcer still calling his opponent the winner - and Ben was in agony and his manager wouldn’t let the doctor come to help him. He felt as though his shoulder had been split from his torso, the fire of his pain ripping through him._

_“You’ll always be a nobody. You know that?” Snoke leant down close to say, “I own you. I say when you’re ready to fight. I say when you can see a doctor. I say when you can eat and when you can fucking sleep.”_

_When Snoke had released his foot from Ben’s chest, he’d climbed through the ropes of the ring and disappeared, not bothering to check if Ben was okay (he wasn’t), if the doctor had sent him to the hospital (he had), or even if he’d sustained any injuries (a fractured clavicle). When Ben left the hospital, he paid his mother’s office a visit. He’d asked her if she knew any lawyers. He’d taken a copy of his contract to them. He didn’t know how they did it, but they managed to void his contract, and Ben was free._

_But was he ever truly_ free _?_

oOo

The physical therapy was emotionally the worst part of his recovery. Not because it was hard (it was), but because it was a reminder of how far he’d fallen. Ben had to look at himself in the mirror of the small gym the hospital had, and see how his muscles had atrophied, see how while he still stood tall, he looked lanky, and wasted, rather than the bulk he had worked so hard to train. He was fading away before his very eyes.

“Can I lift some weights while I’m down here?” He asked his physical therapist, they’d agreed that he could, but only after he’d done the work for his leg first - that was their priority. They were trying to get him from the wheelchair, to crutches, to a single support - a fucking walking stick of all things. Ben worked hard in physical therapy - it was the closest thing he had to being back at Phasma’s, except instead of an intense 90 minute work out twice a day, he was lifting five pound weights in each hand, with a medical professional telling him how well he was doing. _How the mighty have fallen_ , Ben would think to himself. Rey would occasionally come by when she was on days, and check in. She did that a lot. Ben still didn’t believe that one person could care so much - maybe she thought that Ben was going to lash out and beat up the physical therapist with all five pounds of his upper body strength. She looked proud of him, proud of his progress - that hurt most of all. He couldn’t help but be bitter that they hadn’t met while he was in his prime. Maybe she would have been impressed by him, found him a little intimidating, enough to flirt with him. Now? Now he was pathetic. 

Even so, he couldn’t stop the smile he gave her every time her face appeared in the doorway. She was like splinter. She’d weaselled her way under his skin. Tiny British bloody doctor made him smile and he hated it.

“Do you think I’ll be able to climb stairs at some point again?” He asked her one afternoon in the gym. His hands planted on the guide rails as he tried to weight-bare on his left leg - with little success.

“I think with the way you’re going, anything is possible. Why is that? What’s got you wanting to climb stairs all of a sudden”

“I’m trying to figure out if I need to sell my apartment. Third floor walk up.”

“One step at a time, Ben.”

“Was that a joke?”

She’d beamed and Ben had felt the tops of his ears redden, “Yes, and helpful advice. What else do you want to get back to doing?”

“Boxing.” He said simply, “I miss boxing.”

She made a small humming noise, before she made an excuse to leave the room. Ben didn’t see her for the rest of the day, and he wondered if he’d disappointed her. That made his blood boil. All he’d done was be honest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback genuinely fuels me - I'm also so excited to be writing this story so hearing that you guys are enjoying it is incredible. I've never written a multi-chapter like this so it's new and exciting and a little nerve wracking. Please keep leaving love if you can. I know this chapter is also really short - they always seem longer before I post them... endeavouring for more dialogue when they're no longer doctor/patient...


	4. I'm so fucking tired

Six weeks. It took six full weeks from the hit that put him in hospital, until he could take his first steps without an orderly at each elbow. It was wobbly, nerve-wracking, and brilliant. Ben clenched his teeth as he held his hands tentatively over the support rails. The physical therapist was standing at the side of the gait training aid, giving him motivation as he moved with all of the strength he had. He had built back some of his muscle in his upper body, if his leg gave out, he wouldn’t fall, but he knew it would crush his confidence - he couldn’t fall. Not today. Not with Rey standing at the other end of the railings.

She was beaming at him, her arms folded across her body as she watched him take step after step. It took a few moments, but he reached the end - reached her, and with how still he was able to stand, he pulled himself up to his full height and her mouth opened slightly in surprise.

“I hadn’t realised how tall you were.”

“You take my height and weight once a week.” He reminded her, frowning.

“I just hadn’t seen the full effect I guess, you on both feet,” She placed her hand on his forearm, “Congratulations, Ben.” Her smile was infectious, and Ben hated her for that. His face ached as he smiled back at her. 

Her pager went off, and the moment was gone. She turned wordlessly and ran from the room. Ben’s happiness sapped from him immediately. He grunted a response to the physical therapists question, before asking if they would make him use the wheelchair again. The answer was no.

“You’re back on your feet, you’ll use the walking stick for as long as you need, but you’re as stable as you’ve been in weeks. You can get around however you’re comfortable.”

“No more wheelchair?”

“No more wheelchair.” The PT confirmed with a smile. Ben asked if he could do some more weights, and the PT left him to it, telling him to press the assistance button if he needed anything but in the meantime he’d have to check on another patient. He appreciated the independence he’d been given in the gym. He used the heaviest weights he could, until his muscles ached. He looked in the mirror before he left to return to the ward, leaning on the walking stick they had given him. The sunken face he’d been looking back into weeks ago had gone - he wasn’t back to how he looked before the injury, but with every passing day he grew stronger, fitter, more himself. His face filled back out, his cheek less hollowed. Only, with every day he felt as though his face betrayed his mind - he could see the grief on the way his eyebrows knitted closer together, the way his jaw set, he could only imagine how much it betrayed him when someone asked their favourite question, “how are you feeling?”

The answer, he found, was not supposed to be “like shit.” So he’d learned the appropriate responses to not have the psychiatrist sent in again. Things like “I’m okay today” and “Just tired, I think” got him out of the woods long enough to avoid talking about his feelings.

Han still wasn’t prying, didn’t even ask Ben if he wanted to talk about it, but he’d still been to visit almost every day. One day, a few weeks ago, his dad had been busy - a standing appointment - he’d said to him in the text, and Ben had been in a foul mood all day, he’d even snapped at Rey when she asked if he’d eaten his lunch. He’d apologised later, and she’d said, “Already forgiven, Ben.”

Rey was occupying a great deal of Ben’s thoughts these days. He hated to admit it, but she was. She was like a reprieve from his shitty reality, and every day that she was at work, was a day he didn’t hate being alive. He had taken to pushing his wheelchair out into the hallways, just so he could have conversations with her while she worked at the nurses station. She told him so little about her life, and all he wanted to know was more - all of it - where was she from, where did she study, why did she want to be a doctor, what did she do in her free time, who were her friends, did she like working here, what movies did she watch, what was her favourite food, all of it.

Instead they spoke about the news, and what Ben wanted to do when he got out of hospital. He’d asked her about her walking off on him, once he’d gotten the courage.

“You’re think I’m an idiot.”

“Not at all. What would make you think that?

“You just left when I told you I wanted to get back to boxing.”

“Oh, that.” She seemed embarrassed, somehow, “I don’t think you’re an idiot.”

“So why did you leave all of a sudden?”

“I-I’m not quite sure how to put it-”

“You think boxing is reckless.”

“A little, but that’s not-”

“You think that after so much time putting me back together, I’m wasting your effort-”

“No, Ben. Let me-”

“Well, what is it?”

“Benjamin, if you’d just let me get a word in?” Rey said sharply, using his full name like a punch to the gut, her voice softened as she spoke again, “I was worried about you. It was a very unprofessional moment, and I apologise. It was just that, I couldn’t say anything supportive for your wishes, because I was worried that you’d get hurt again. It’s not about ‘wasting my effort’ or anything like that, it’s that I respect you and the choices you want to make, and in that moment I didn’t have anything nice to say, so I left.”

Ben hadn’t had much to say in response to that. He’d nodded weakly, and said “Right, yeah. Okay.” Before making an excuse to leave. It seemed they were doing that a lot.

oOo

Rey had met with the ward psychiatrist in his office. It was a weekly review of the patients under their service, and as always, Ben had avoided talking to him to the best of his ability.

“He’s still insisting that he’s fine.”

“And you don’t believe him?” Rey asked as she took notes on her clipboard, leaning it on her knee.

“Traumatic brain injuries aren’t without their psychosocial impacts, Dr Niima. I’ve never met a patient who was genuinely ‘okay’ after that kind of event.”

She hummed in agreement, “So how do we approach it with him then? Find out what he needs?”

“I think you should talk with him.”

“Me?”

“You’re closer to him in age than I am, and you’ve spent much more time getting to know him. I feel as though he would open up to you. Given you aren’t psychiatrically trained, I would ask for you to do this in terms of a risk assessment, would he be safe to send home, is he in need of mood stabilising medications, those kinds of things. I don’t need you to dig very deeply, I just need to be able to give an opinion when the discussion of discharge comes up.”

“I- I can try.”

That’s how Rey ended up knocking on Ben’s door just after lunch one day, and sitting herself down in his visitors chair. His dad had stepped out, said he’d be gone an hour or two, so Rey took the chance to have a private chat with Ben.

He was sitting in his bed, dressed in his usual sweatpants and t-shirt, reading. He’d been reading a lot, she’d noticed. He’d burned through all of the books they had on the ward, and so Han had been bringing him books from home, and even a few times bringing by bags filled with new books he’d bought for him on the way to visit that day.

“Hey there,” She’s said as she sat down. She’d shut the door behind her, and had left her clipboard in the office. Rey was trying to make this as informal as possible. Ben seemed to have a complete wall up when it came to formalities. “Wanted to know if you were happy to have a chat?”

“With you? Always.” Ben said, putting his book down after dog-earring a corner.

“I know you don’t like talking to the psychiatrist.”

“I hate talking to the psychiatrist.”

“Why is that?”

“I don’t like people in my business.”

“We just want to know how you’re doing, Ben.”

“I’m fine, I’m just-”

“Tired, I know.” She finished for him, having heard the line a number of times over the weeks.

Ben seemed to shift uncomfortably, like his ploy had been discovered. He swallowed, and then looked up at the ceiling.

“I have a few questions I want to ask you, okay? Just answer them as best as you can, and we can be done here as soon as possible.”

He grunted in response, and Rey could see this was already not going the way she had hoped.

“How are you feeling, _really_ , about your injury?”

He said nothing for a moment, and then he quietly said, “Devastated, but not surprised.”

“Why aren’t you surprised?”

And then he told her. The floodgates opened, finally. He told her about the rivalry with Armitage Hux, and the issues he’d had with Snoke. He’d told her about the collarbone, and the beatings he used to take, and the loneliness he felt deep in his soul, how the world had rejected him and how the only to be okay with that was to reject the world right back. He told her boxing was the only thing that gave his life meaning, and now he didn’t have that, and probably would never have that. He told her he was scared to go back to his apartment because he didn’t know if he could manage the stairs every day, and that the loneliness would probably kill him anyway. He told her that his mother hadn’t visited, not even once. He told her that his dad had been absent all his life, and now he was here too much, and Ben couldn’t decide what was worse. He told her he was scared to leave because how was he supposed to find meaning in his life without being able to be in control of his body?

Rey’s heart was aching for Ben. She’d watched his stony exterior for weeks, wondering what he was carrying beneath it, wondering what had made him the man he was, and now, all she wanted was to hug him. She couldn’t, of course, because she was a professional, but there was something in Ben’s eyes that broke her heart and made her want to comfort him. He spoke so candidly with her, gave her such raw details that she felt as though she needed to give him something back, except that wasn’t why she was here.

“Ben - I - Thank you for opening up. I know that mustn’t have been easy for you.”

He was back to staring at the ceiling. His defences back up at the blink of an eye.

“We’re looking at discharge planning, but I want you to know that any and all of your concerns about going home are my top priority. Okay?”

He didn’t answer.

She touched her hand to his, “Benjamin.”

“You think I can go home soon?”

“It’s looking like it, yeah.”

“No, I mean, do you think I’ll be able to _handle_ going home?”

“I think you can handle anything, Ben. You’re so much stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

oOo

They had made a deal. Ben was allowed to be discharged, but he had to meet with the psychiatrist in his outpatient rooms once a week to talk about how he was doing. Really talk - how he’d been coping, had he been eating, sleeping, talking with his dad, had he reached out to his friends, etc. Rey hadn’t told the psychiatrist anything other than he would need some support post-discharge. Ben had been grateful beyond words for that. Honestly, he was happy with the arrangement. They’d organised for someone to assess his apartment for any difficulties he might encounter, and after the rehab he’d done for his left leg, he felt like he would be able to take the stairs down and up to his apartment once a day, but that he’d need some help getting his groceries up. Han had offered to help, and Ben had a pang of guilt - weren’t kids supposed to be helping their ageing parents?

He packed his duffle bag with his clothes, and all of the books he’d accrued during his stay, his walking stick leaning against the hospital bed he’d called home for almost two months. He looked around the room, checking that he had his phone charger and all of his underwear, when a small knock came from the door. It was Rey. She had a stack of paperwork in her hand, and was giving him a small, tentative smile.

“These are your discharge notes, for your primary care physician. It’s got all of your referrals and procedural notes, everything that they will need to keep monitoring you from home. I also booked the first four meetings with psychiatrist for you, they’re 4pm every Friday, I hope that works for you.”

“Thanks, Rey.” He took the neat stack from her hands, their skin brushing so briefly but long enough that he felt his ears go hot, “Look, I just want to say thank you. You - you were the best thing about being here, the only thing that made it bearable. I still don’t understand how you’re so good all the time, but maybe one day I’ll get it.”

She beamed at him, dropping her gaze to the floor as colour rose in her neck, “That means a lot Ben. Thank you.”

“I mean it, I can walk because of you.”

“You can walk because of you, Benjamin Solo. No one can take that away from you.”

The intensity of the situation made him look down and fiddle with the strap of his duffle bag. He waited to watch her move out of his periphery, but she didn’t. He looked back up at her, and she looked a little uncomfortable.

“Is everything okay?”

“There’s something I need to tell you.”

“Oh?”

Ben’s heart slammed against his ribs, he swallowed hard as he turned his body to face her. She looked guilty, like she’d been carrying a secret - and Ben could only hope that it matched his own.

“Someone came to visit you, quite a few weeks ago. After hours, so I had to send her out, but she asked me not to tell you they were here - and I didn’t. I should have, but she said you wouldn’t want to know. I figured it doesn’t feel right keeping things from you, so I thought I should tell you.”

Ben’s stomach fell through his ass. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Who was it?”

“Leia Organa, the senator?”

Ben’s head snapped up at that, “What? Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. How do you know her?”

“She’s my mother.”

oOo

**Ben**

You didn’t tell me Leia had been visiting me.

**Han**

Why don’t you call her ‘mom’ like a normal kid?

**Ben**

Why didn't she visit during the daytime like a normal mother?

**Han**

She’s been busy

**Ben**

I could have died.

**Han**

It’s complicated… she’ll explain everything to you soon.


	5. Be

Han had driven Ben home from the hospital - he’d insisted on it, and Ben hadn’t complained because the idea of getting a cab home was just as daunting as the leaving the hospital itself. He noticed that Han took the long way through the city to his apartment, the way that avoided the arena the match had been held in. Ben appreciated it more than he could say, so in the true Solo fashion, he said nothing. Han had the radio on quietly, and the silence between them was comfortable.

Han had been absent for most of Ben’s childhood. A commercial airline pilot, the absences came with the territory, but it didn’t mean that a kid would understand that. Han had missed parent teacher conferences, sports matches, birthdays, award ceremonies, graduations, first dates, first heartbreaks, all of it. Ben couldn’t recall anything major in his life that his father had been there for. It had filled Ben with bitterness, with anger he never figured out what to do with, until he’d started boxing. Han had been there for this, though. Han had been there for all of it. For the surgery, for the recovery, for the highs and the lows, for all of it. Ben hated to admit it, but Han’s quiet persistence for presence had started to heal old wounds. The silence was comfortable, because Ben was comfortable. He loved his dad. He hated his childhood, but he loved his dad.

They pulled up in front of his building and Han refused to let him carry his own bag. Ben didn’t mind, the daunting staircase was challenging enough. Ben took it slowly, and found that it was easier than he thought it would be - exhausting, but manageable. He unlocked the apartment door, expecting to see the place dusty and depressing, but instead he met an apartment he barely recognised. The high industrial windows here clear, not dusted over, open with a light breeze moving through the living room.

“Did you clean?”

“We might have been keeping an eye on the place.”

“Thank you, Dad.”

The word wasn’t lost between then. The sincerity in his voice was registered with Han and the hand on Ben’s shoulder said more than the two of them would ever be able to verbalise.

“There’s a bit more, go on in.”

Han was right, there was more. There was a new coffee machine on the kitchen counter. The fridge was full of groceries, the cupboards with packets of pasta and rice and sauces. Ben’s kitchen had never been so fully stocked, Han had said, “I figured this way we could put off doing a grocery run for at least a week.” He was trying to explain it away so they wouldn’t have to talk about it. Ben looked into the living room and frowned, it was different. His bed and dresser had been moved from his room and into the living room, his dining table gone.

“You never used it anyway, it’s in our garage if you want it back,” His father explained without Ben asking, “But I needed to move the bed to do this.”

He walked over to the bedroom door, and opened it. Ben looked in and froze. His bedroom furniture gone had made room for a punching bag, a weight bench, and a treadmill. A home gym.

“You didn’t get enough light in here to keep a good sleep schedule, Rey said that was important coming home. So I moved the bed, and then I had an idea that, maybe, this would help you feel a little stronger, a little more like yourself, then you can go back to Phasma’s if you want. Go easy on the treadmill, but the PT said that walking on it would get your confidence up until you could maybe start to run. I just figured-”

Ben never got to hear what Han figured. He’d pulled his father into a hug. The first they had shared in many years. Taller than his dad, Ben leant down to bury his face in Han’s shoulder. He gripped him to him and Han returned the strength of the hold. Ben let out a sob and his fathers hand flattened against his back, rubbing it gently as Ben cried into his shirt. _Old_ _wounds_ , Ben thought, _how were old wounds fixed so easily?_

“It’s okay, kid. Let it out.”

“I love you, Dad.” He choked against his shoulder, the words falling from his mouth like stones, “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me. I should have been doing things like this for you a long time ago.”

“You’re doing it now.” Was all Ben could manage as his body shook. He couldn’t remember the last time he cried, but it was exhausting.

oOo

Rey had two days off in a row and they felt like a blessing from the Force (more accurately, from Poe Dameron who insisted she was overworking herself). She slept in the first morning, and then she called Finn and asked him if he had any free time - he’d taken two days of leave for her, so they could spend time watching television on her couch and eating takeaway. Finn sitting on her couch was her picture of home. She laid her head in his lap as they watched a show that wasn’t new, but she had never heard of.

“Everyone has been talking about this for months, Rey.”

“I haven’t heard anything about it - I like it so far.”

“It’s huge. Big budget, big cast, you really need to get more time out of the hospital.”

She laughed grinning up at him. He was weaving tiny little braids into her hair, fidgeting with his fingers as they watched the show. She laughed, she cried, she gasped - she could tell why it was such a hit. Once the episode finished, Finn took a slow breath in.

“You okay?” She asked him, her hand on his shoulder.

“Are you happy?”

“Right now, absolutely.”

“No, in - like at work? In your life?”

“I think so.”

“I worry about you.”

“I know you do,” She sat up, sitting crossed legged on her couch to face him. Finn could be so serious sometimes, and it was almost always when he was worried about her.

“Are you seeing anyone? Have you been on any dates?”

“I don’t have time, Finn. I barely see you.”

“I know, I just - I worry that you’re lonely.”

Finn had a special talent for seeing right through her. She sighed, laying her head back down on his lap before pressing play to watch another episode. She didn’t answer him, she didn’t have to. He knew she was lonely. Finn knew she threw herself into work to avoid how empty her apartment was, to avoid how empty her heart was. She had Finn, Rey had convinced herself that was enough. Finn’s love was platonic. She would never want to change that, to change him, but sometimes she felt as though she was born to be unloved. Born to be abandoned. Finn had gotten job offers around the country when he had graduated, and she knew he turned them down for her. Rey knew that her best friend stayed in Takodana for her. She could never thank him enough for that, mostly because he lied every time she asked - told her that his job was his dream job (even though she knew that the other offers had paid more money). Finn was family. Family didn’t leave. At least that’s what he told her.

In reality, there was someone. Someone she couldn’t stop thinking about, but someone she should _definitely_ stop thinking about. Someone tall and dark and broody and had defied all expectations and retrained himself to talk and walk. Benjamin Solo. It had been weeks since Ben’s discharge home, and the neurology ward felt empty without him. A new patient had taken Bed 4 the very next day, and Rey had tried hard to ignore the pang she felt in her chest every time she walked past the room to see anybody but Ben. Patients were off-limits. It was part of the whole code of ethics - you don’t date patients, you don’t lust after patients, you don’t go and buy all of the books they had read as an inpatient and work your way through them so if you ever got to see them again you could talk about something other than their injury, and you certainly _don’t_ fall in love with them.

But that’s what she’d done. She’d fallen in fucking love with him. And she’d probably never see him again.

oOo

A knock on his door pulled Ben out of the kitchen. He’d ordered a number of cookbooks online, planning on working his way through the amass of groceries Han had left him with a little more skill than he already had, He was expecting the person on the other side to be a UPS guy, he opened the door without even bothering with the peephole. It wasn’t a UPS guy, it was his mother. She was wearing jeans - which he found strange, he hadn’t seen her in jeans in over two decades - looking decidedly casual. She was here for a visit, it seemed.

“Leia.”

“Benjamin, can I come in?”

“Do you have to?”

“Don’t be like that, I have something I want to talk to you about.”

So not a visit. An errand. He didn’t invite her in, but he stepped aside for her to come in. She walked in and made her self comfortable on the sofa. He made two cups of coffee, and wordlessly handed her one as he sat down in the armchair, not feeling as though he was ready to share the furniture with her.

“What do you want to talk about?” He asked her, as politely as he could manage, “Your late night prowls outside of my hospital room?”

“Doctor Niima told you,” she said, it wasn’t a question, “I apologise, I shouldn’t have invaded your space like that.”

“You should have visited during the day.”

“That’s why I’m here. I want to explain to you why I couldn’t.”

“You don’t need to explain. I know that the fight would have caused you a political nightmare, I assumed you were on damage control duties. I get it.”

“You always assume the worst in people.”

“It’s usually the truth.”

“Not this time, not quite.”

Leia refused to let him interrupt after that. She told him about what happened the moment he hit the ring floor. That she felt as though her very soul had left her body, and that if he wasn’t okay she would never forgive herself. She told him about the guilt she’s been carrying for not fighting for him, for not being his biggest supporter, for not being the mother he deserved, ever since he was a child. Leia told him about her meeting with Hux days after the fight. How Snoke had threatened his life, had filled his apartment with gas after the last match he lost, how she had asked Hux to get in contact with Snoke’s previous fighters. Many had similar stories. Leia, Hux, eight other fighters represented by Snoke in the last decade, and Leia’s team of lawyers spent the last two months building a case against him, for negligence, for breaking and entering, for assault and battery, for fixing matches, for attempted murder, for anything and everything they could. Leia had managed to pull some strings at the District Attorney’s office to get the case moved up, and three days ago the trial had started. The night before, the jury had made their decision. They had found Snoke guilty on all charges, and he was incarcerated. Snoke was in prison, and he wasn’t getting out any time soon. His mother had put him in prison, and Snoke couldn’t hurt him anymore, couldn’t hurt any of them.

Ben sat in silence for a long time, his hands between his knees to stop them from shaking, “Y-You weren’t doing damage control?”

“I guess in a way I was.”

“You did all of that, for _me_?”

“You are my _son,_ Ben. I would do anything for you.”

Ben knew what this would mean for Leia. She had used her position to pull strings at the DA’s office. It wouldn’t look good. She had risked her position, her work, for him.

_Old wounds_ , he thought again.

oOo

**Unknown**

Solo, it’s Hux. I asked your mom for your number, I hope you don’t mind.

You don’t have to reply to this at all if you don’t want to.I’d completely understand.

I was just wondering if you’d let me buy you a beer. I want to clear the air, apologise, all that shit.

**Ben**

The Base, 6pm?

**Hux**

Absolutely. See you then.

Thank you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your comments and love, I see them, I read them, they fill my belly with warm and fuzzies. I've planned the rest of this story, and think we're about half-way through. As always, leave your thoughts, I'm going to keep trying to write at this pace.


	6. Trouble usually finds me

Ben had met with Hux at The Base as promised. The dimly lit dive bar was once his favourite place to frequent after matches. He’d gotten there first, so he’d camped out with a whiskey in one of the booths, waiting for his previous rival to join him. They’d talked for a few hours, working their way through a number of pitchers of beers. They shared fucked up things that Snoke had made them do, or had done to them. Ben had asked the full story about the gas in Hux’s apartment - apparently Snoke had someone break in while Hux was asleep, and turned his gas burners on without lighting the pilot light, filling his apartment with gas from the stove. Hux had woken up when a neighbour was banging on his door - the smell of gas filling the hallway of his building. Hux counted himself lucky that he hadn’t been killed that day, but it was a large part of why he threw the punch that was the nail in the coffin of Ben’s career.

“I’m sorry, Solo.”

“You don’t need to be. Training under Snoke was… intense.”

Intense was an understatement. They eventually got down to the meat of what it was like to train with Snoke. Sometimes he made you feel incredible, like you were the best fighter he’d ever seen, then on a dime he’d be verbally chewing you out for everything you’d ever done wrong in his eyes. He was angry, and manipulative, and never satisfied unless absolutely everything went his way. Ben had wondered if things might have been different if Ben and Hux had been training under Snoke at the same time, maybe they might have been friends.

“You really don’t blame me?”

“I’m working on not blaming people for everything, taking it as it comes, making the world better, all that shit.”

“Who is she?”

Ben choked over his beer, “What?”

“Self-improvement and that sappy look on your face, two critical signs a girls on the brain - or guy, sorry, I don’t know your life.”

Ben’s grip on his glass tightened, his knuckles going white, he was annoyed at himself that he was so transparent. Hux was right, of course. Every time Ben had been presented with an opportunity for empathy, for growth, he’d taken it. He wanted to be more like Rey, wanted to be someone she could want. Hux laughed after a moment, his hands in the air as he said,

“I’m not trying to pry, consider the subject dropped.”

True to his word, Hux paid the tab. As his credit card was returned to him, Hux said, “I’d like to hang out again, Ben. I think we have a lot in common, not just the abusive coach, near death experiences, thing. You don’t have to, I know I’ve already asked a lot of you to even meet me in the first place.”

His mouth moved before his brain processed, “I’d like that.” It wasn’t a lie, for the first time in a long time, Ben felt like he had a friend. An honest to Force friend. That thought flickered through his mind, and he thought of someone else he owed a visit. Phasma.

It didn’t take him long to get from The Base to Phasma’s. The gym was downtown like everything else - the bar, his apartment, the garage he used to take his motorbike to (he’d given Han the keys the week before, still somewhat bitter over the _Rock ‘em Sock ‘em Robots_ incident). He wandered in through the open warehouse door, the sights and smells sending him right back to the day before his injury - three months earlier. Phasma was in the ring, helping two young members with their form, when her eyes caught his. She froze, and Ben wondered if maybe he was unwelcome here. He stared back at her, and before he knew it she had cleared the ropes and leapt down in front of him, pulling him into a bone crushing hug. The only contact he’d ever had with the woman was a handshake when they had first met, and a punch on the shoulder when he said something out of line (which was frequently), but this was emotional and unrelenting, and Ben hugged her back.

“I _told_ you not to throw until you had your stance right. Thank fuck you’re alive, Solo. ”

oOo

Rey’s departure from the Neurology team was a teary one. She was heading into the last rotation of her intern year - paediatrics - and she was beyond excited, but also devastated to be leaving the team that had treated her like family for the last three months. Bittersweet, Poe had was called. They had their last daily meeting in an empty conference room, Rey had her head buried in her hands while the coffee Poe had bought her went cold and unfinished. She was disheveled for her normal standards, her hair falling out of her bun, her minimal eye make up staining the rims of her eyes.

“You can always come back, you know.”

“I loved it here, and believe me I have learned so much, but I’m also not sure that its for me.”

“That’s more than okay, you’ll meet a lot of teams and a lot of specialities before you find the right one.”

“I’m going to miss it here.”

“I think that’s what they call bittersweet, Rey. Besides, you have my number. We can still catch up. You can call me whenever you need anything, I hope you know that.”

“How do you separate yourself from patients? From the job?”

“You’re thinking of Solo, aren’t you?”

“I got attached.”

“It’s okay. It happens sometimes.”

“It doesn’t feel like it’s okay.”

She’d let out some tears when her last shift finished and she cleared her things out of her locker. Bittersweet. Bittersweet was Finn sacrificing his job offers. Bittersweet was watching Benjamin Solo walk out of her life. Bittersweet was leaving behind a team that she felt at home with. Bittersweet was Poe messaging her on her first day on the paediatric ward a photo of the neurology team holding a sign that said “Good Luck Rey!”. She fell into routine with the paediatrics team as easily as she had with the neuro team, but there was no Poe to guide her. However, there was a Rose, only a year her senior, who showed her the ropes, who told her how medicine for kids was different to medicine for adults, how their rostering system worked, how to get rush orders on blood results, or radiology results faster by asking for the right person.Rey had an instinct with children. They loved her, and she loved them. The days where a broken bone or two was all she had to deal with were the good ones. The days that weren’t those were the days she had to tell parents that their kid was sick - really sick. Those ones, well, they were the ones she could live without. The heartbreak, and the tears, and the scared but knowing look the kids wore was enough to break her own damn heart and wish that she’d gone into something else, like museum curating or a librarian. Then there was the days that kids got to go home, got to go back to their normal lives of jumping and playing and learning and not worrying about the greater point of their lives. She loved paediatrics, she really did. It’s just, when those bad days come, they hit hard.

Anaphylaxis. Peanut allergy. Parents who assumed it was nothing until their kids throat closed and they couldn’t breath. Three lots of adrenaline, administered in the ambulance, thirty minutes of CPR in the paediatric emergency department and advanced life support, an unintubatable airway, and a time of death later, Rey was sitting in a supply closet in tears. Ugly, heavy tears. Her shift was over, but she couldn’t talk let alone walk. She couldn’t drive her car home.

**Rey**

Can you pick me up?

I’ll order pizza

**Finn**

Yeah, of course

Are you okay?

**Rey**

Not really. I’ll meet you out front

Finn was waiting in the car park by the time she made it outside. He pulled her into a hug and didn’t ask any questions. She crumbled against him, sobbing into his shoulder. He was in his suit from work, and he’d clearly left early to meet her, had she been in a better state of mind she would have felt guilty about the tears that stained the lapels of his suit jacket. He somehow managed to get her into the passengers seat while only letting go of the hug at the last minute. She couldn’t explain to him the ache she was feeling in her chest and Finn just let her cry the whole drive back to her apartment. He held her hand as they climbed the stairs to her apartment and he put her in the bathroom, she sat crying on the toilet seat while he went through her bedroom drawers, finding clean underwear and sweatpants and a shirt for her to put on. He started the shower and the room filled up with steam.

He closed the door behind him, letting her sit in her scrubs as the shower ran. Eventually she peeled her work scrubs off and put them in the laundry hamper, sitting in the shower for over half an hour as she let the hot water wash away her tears and the aching and the water that ran down into the drain felt cathartic somehow. She got out eventually, when her limbs would move again, her energy completely depleted. She pulled her clothes on, and moved out into her living room only to find Finn paying the pizza guy and placing three pizza boxes down on her coffee table, her TV lined up with the show they’d been watching weeks ago.

Wordlessly they took their usual positions on the couch, Rey’s head in Finns lap. She tried to not think about the family going home without their child. She tried not to think about what might have happened if something, anything, had gone differently. Finn felt her shoulder shaking as the tears started again, and he comforted her, like he always did. She never told Finn what happened at work. He never asked. Rey loved him for that.

oOo

Ben had been attending his psychiatry appointments as promised. He went once a week on a Friday afternoon, and he was honest as he could be. Some weeks were easy, when they spoke about how he was doing and what he wanted to work towards. Sometimes they spoke about his family, and how things had changed since his injury. Sometimes they spoke about Snoke, and the holes and trauma in his life that experience had left him with. He told the psychiatrist - Dr Wexley - about his physical rehab, as well as the efforts he was putting in to give his parents more time in his life, how hard he was working to form friendships. Wexley was pleased with Ben’s progress, with how much he opened up.

Some weeks were definitely harder than others. Wexley dug deep into Ben’s very existence, he dug into his anger, and his temper, and the hurt and hardship he carried in a small box buried in the back of his mind, a box that read “don’t fucking open”. Pandora’s box, it felt like. Scary and cold to the touch. Those were the days he left Wexley’s office with tight shoulders and his hands buried in his pockets, like his brain had been pulled apart by a hot poker. Seven weeks of therapy, and Ben was starting to get the hang of packing himself back up when he left the outpatient appointment rooms.

One particularly tiring session, he walked out and into the carpark of the hospital, to see Rey in her emerald green scrubs walking towards someone. His heart stopped. He’d recognise those three buns anywhere. He was frozen to the spot, running through the possibilities of what he could say to her. Only, he never got the chance, she reached the person and Ben’s eyes finally looked at them - a man, tall, dark skin, handsome. Her boyfriend then. Or husband. He realised he didn’t know. Ben felt his throat tighten, she looked like she was crying into his shoulder, her arms wrapped around the man. The jealousy that rose from his toes filled him with anger. Anger he hadn’t felt in many weeks. He wanted to walk over, pull Rey off of the man and push his head into the bonnet of the car they were next to. His fists clenched and unclenched, and a rational voice in his head said, _get out of here, just get home._

That’s what he did. He pulled his keys out of his pocket - Han had given him back the keys to his motorbike soon after he had started to run on the treadmill, his legs back to a respectable level of strength. Ben had tried to tell him Han had won it fair and square, but his father wasn’t hearing any of it. Apparently he’d had it serviced and detailed for him while Ben wasn’t able to ride it. He was still getting used to Han’s thoughtfulness, and Ben had been wondering if perhaps his father had been like this for some time, but Ben had never let him in. The ride home was easy enough, weaving in and out of traffic, he pulled his bike into the parking beneath his building. As calmly as he could, he climbed the staircase to his apartment, taking the stairs two at a time. Before he knew it, he was standing in his old bedroom-turned home gym, wrapping his hands. His hands collided with the solid bag, over and over and over again. At first he was raw and angry, and then his instincts took over, he slowed down, watched his stance, heard Phasma’s voice about his form ring in his head and so he fixed it. It was the first time he’d been able to bring himself to touch the bag since he’d been discharged. 7 weeks, he’d been in this room working with the weights, building up to running on the treadmill, but the punching bag had stool still and untouched.

Until now. Now, Ben watched his footing, felt it coming back to him like muscle memory. Uppercut, hook, jab, uppercut, hook, jab. Jab, hook, hook, jab. His upper body roared in fatigue, but his brain wanted more. He spent close on an hour working against the bag, by the time he was unwrapping his hands he noticed the blood that had pooled in the off-white material. He hadn’t felt a thing. His body was dripping with sweat, and for the first time in a long time, Ben was starting to feel in control of himself.

oOo

**Ben**

I had an idea

**Phasma**

Go easy, your brain’s been through enough

**Ben**

Fuck you

I want to start a boxing program

At your gym

**Phasma**

I already train boxers, Solo

Just because you never listen to me doesn't mean other people don't

**Ben**

Not for adults, for kids

No contact, just skill training

**Phasma**

You want to teach kids how to fight?

**Ben**

No, I want to teach at risk kids how to control their emotions, give them an outlet

**Phasma**

That kind of thing usually needs community support

You’ll need a member of the local council to okay

**Ben**

Way ahead of you

My mom forwarded my idea to the local recreation council and they are on board

Now I just need somewhere to do it

You have a gym, I have a program

What do you say?

**Phasma**

I say yes

Come to the gym tomorrow, we’ll sort out the details

**Ben**

I’ll bring the Maker’s Mark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are the greatest. Thank you for following along with this story, it means so much to me


	7. One thing missing

“How many sessions are you wanting to run a week?”

“I’m not really sure. How many do you think we could plausibly run?”

Ben and Phasma were in her office upstairs, it looked down on the warehouse gym but it was not spared the smell of the place. She had a wax burner on but it did little to hide the smell of sweat. The bottle of Maker’s Mark was on her desk, the seal cracked and two half drunk glasses between them. They werebrainstorming. Phasma has already given him her emphatic “yes”, but it’s the details she needs.

They can run the program seven days a week if Ben can bring in someone else, he explained, and when he tells her that his first choice would be Armitage Hux, Phasma spits out the sip of whiskey she’d just taken all over her desk.

_“Hux_? You want Hux?”

“He’s a good guy.”

“He almost killed you.”

“He and I have moved past that. You should too.”

“I can’t for the life of me figure you out, Solo,” She says, “But if you want Hux, so be it. Just remember that you're responsible for him.”

The conversation was easier from there. Ben called Hux while he was in the office with Phasma, put him on speaker, and the three of them worked out the details. Hux was in, he was looking at getting back into competition fighting with another trainer, but he wanted to spend his free time working on this with them. The league had lifted Hux's ban after Ben had sent them a letter requesting they do so. Ben had strongly suggested he consider Phasma as his new coach. Everyone knew Ben had no interest in fighting again, so it would work for everyone if Phasma took Hux on. The boxing itself, Ben loved. But the fighting? He never felt fulfilled after a match, win or lose, and it certainly wasn’t worth the risk of losing control of his body again.

Within two weeks the program was up and running. They’d given notifications out to the schools in the area, plastering posters in coffee shops and arcades and alleyways, and before they knew it they had over thirty kids aged 10 to 17 who had signed up. They ran two sessions a day on weekdays, one before school hours and one after. The weekends three a day. By the end of the second week of the program, a month since its conception, each and every one of the classes were full. Completely unfunded, the program had flittered through the community like wild-fire.

Ben, Hux, and Phasma took turns taking the classes - they kept their costs low, and they managed to section off the classes from the rest of the gym. When gym members started to understand how and why the program was running, they started volunteering to lead classes too. It took off more than Ben could have ever hoped for, and because of that they were able to keep the program free for every kid who wanted to be involved.

Ben’s classes started with a warm up, laps around the gym, before breaking into pairs and practicing their form. Ben believed in form, form kept you engaged, it kept you safe. He’d stop by each pairing, helping them fix little things here and there, ‘ _feet wider apart, you’ll be harder to knock over’_ , ‘ _don’t throw your hook with your hand twisted like that’_ , ‘ _we’ll find you a pair of gloves that fit better, sit tight, I’ll be back’_. It was the best thing Ben had ever done. Even the days he hated, like when James Finch came to class with a black eye. Ben had pulled him aside afterwards and asked him what happened, asked him if he’d been practicing with his friends without gloves, when James had told him that it had been his father who gave it to him. Ben had to contact child services, and had worked harder than ever to not march himself over to James’ place and tell Mr Finch exactly what he thought of him. Only, that wasn’t Ben anymore. Instead, he called child services, and James was placed with his Uncle across town. He still came to class twice a week, and even once when Ben had come to his pair, James had given him a look that said, _Thank you._

After two months of the program, Phasma had suggested they all go out for a drink or five one Friday night, to celebrate. Ben had been reluctant at first, but Hux had twisted his arm quite literally and gotten him to agree. Ben caught a cab to midtown Takodana, to a bar none of them could afford to drink at for just any night out, and they sat in a booth the three of them, drinking the lowest shelf whiskey the bar stocked. Ben found himself laughing and grinning with his friends - the word still new to him - as they joked about anything and everything, reeling with laughter at the stories the other two had from their classes, stories of matches gone astray, stories from their youth, of ex’s and friends and family. Ben was thrilled to be learning so much about the people he called his friends, his coworkers, his support system. He’d talk about it in his next therapy session, the way the hole in his heart had started to patch itself over.

Phasma had signed Hux up for a match coming up, and Ben was looking forward to sitting ringside. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone to watch a match instead of compete. It didn’t fill him with the dread he’d thought it would. Hux was a great fighter, and with Phasma as his coach he’d moved from angry and erratic to controlled, patient, and wiser with each throw. It was a pleasure to watch Hux fight (and to not be on the receiving end of the punches).

“You better not lose.”

“Oh, why’s that Solo?”

“Might find you left your gas stove on…wake up dead.”

“ _Fuck_ _sake_ , you’re such an asshole, you know that?”

A voice interrupted their conversation, “I’m sure that’s not true.”

That voice. How could he ever forget that voice. Ben’s veins ran hot, swallowing hard as he looked up to see its owner. The oxygen in his lungs was ripped out like in a vacuum. It’s owner, tall with chestnut brown hair, and hazel eyes he was convinced he’d never see again after the incident at the hospital. His mouth hung open slightly, betraying him, showing his surprise.

“Rey,” Ben chokes out, his voice sounding as though he hasn’t used it in months. He moved to stand so fast that his thighs smacked against the table and shook the whole damn thing, “W-What are you doing here?”

“I’m out celebrating. I thought I heard your voice, I came to investigate.” She was beaming up at him, her hand finding his forearm. As hard as Ben tried, he couldn’t find any words, she was standing right in front of him, waiting for him to speak and he had nothing to say. Not one _fucking_ word. Hux cleared his throat, and Ben turned to look at his friends, who were giving him a look that told him they would tear him to pieces over this incident later.

“Oh,” he said, manners, “Rey these are my friends. This is Hux, and Phasma. Rey was my doctor.”

“ _Armitage_ , please.” Hux said, leaning forward to shake Rey’s hand. Phasma choked on her drink and laughed at Hux’s face.

“No one calls you Armitage, you dick.”

Hux was offended by Phasma’s tone, “My _mother_ calls me Armitage.”

“I remind you of your mother?” Rey asked, a light smile creeping onto her lips. Ben couldn’t have been happier to have her there in that moment, the easy way she got on with new people, the way she was already making fun of Hux, “How flattering.”

“No, I - Uh,” Hux stammered, and Ben felt a wave of relief wash over that Hux would definitely come off second best in the retelling of this story. Ben’s eyes had stayed on Rey, afraid to look away in case she disappeared.

“Can I buy you a drink?” Ben asked her suddenly, as though his brain had finally remembered what it’s job was.

“I was hoping you’d ask.”

Two, no three, that’s how many beats his heart missed at her words. They moved together towards the bar, the venue a little more crowded than when they had arrived, and Ben had frowned - there was no way Rey had heard his voice over all this noise. He ordered their drinks - a top shelf whiskey for him (he was showing off, he couldn’t afford top shelf), and gin and tonic for her.

“What are you celebrating?” He asked her, leaning down so she could hear him better.

“I just finished my intern year. A full year of doctoring under my belt. I start back in paediatrics on Sunday,in a permanent position.” She said proudly. 

Ben pushed down the thought that said _I wonder what else is under that belt_ , instead saying, “That is worth celebrating. You’re a great doctor.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“No, I mean it,” Ben said, catching the inside of his cheek before he could say anything incriminating, “Where are your friends? Will they be missing you?”

“They’ll survive, I’m sure.” She smiled up at him, her hand sitting on his arm, burning into his skin like a brand.She moved her body a little to the left to point to a table nearby, mostly unfamiliar faces but two that stuck out to him. The first was Doctor Poe Dameron, the other, was Rey’s boyfriend, husband, whatever he was. Ben clenched his jaw.

“Are you sure your boyfriend is okay with you being over here with me?”

“Boyfriend?”

Ben nodded over towards the table at the exact time the boyfriend in question was looking towards them.

She laughed, loudly, and Ben realised he’d never heard her laugh like that. Disinhibited, free. He wanted to hear it more. He wanted to keep making her laugh.

“He’s not my boyfriend, that’s Finn. He’s my best friend, more like my brother,” Rey explained to him, finding his gaze with ease, “In fact, he’s been laying the moves on Doctor Dameron over there ever since we sat down.”

“Oh.”

“Oh indeed,” She was grinning at him now, teasing, “Were you _jealous_ , Ben?”

Ben had two options in that moment, lie and pass it off as a misunderstanding, or tell the truth. He’d been telling the truth a lot lately, no reason to stop that now. He moved his hand from his drink to her arm, sliding his hand down her forearm until his hand was wrapped around her wrist, possessively. He didn’t look at her, he couldn’t, but he held her wrist gently in his hand as though she might break as he said, “Yes.”

If he had been looking at her, he would have likely seen the way she swallowed hard. The way her eyes scanned his body, the way she was desperate to see his face, to see if he was serious. But he wasn’t meeting her eye, so instead she brushed her thumb on the underside of his arm, the only part of him she could reach with his long fingers overlapping around her wrist.

“I thought about you a lot,” Rey said softly, taking a step towards him, “I heard about the program you’re running, and I couldn’t help thinking how proud I am of you. You’ve come so far-”

“How did you hear about that?” He interrupted, frowning down at her, his hand still wrapped around her wrist.

A blush crept up her neck and over her cheeks, “I - I’m sorry. Your dad, he’s… he’s been keeping me updated. I hope you don’t mind.”

“You’ve been checking in on me?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Like I said, I’ve thought about you a lot.”

“But _why_? I’m sure you see lots of patients, why would you give a shit about me?”

“I’m not sure. You got under my skin. I’m really sorry if this makes you uncomfortable, believe me I’ve tried so hard to tell myself it’s inappropriate, I’ll back off-”

“Give me your phone.”

“What?”

“Your phone, give it to me.”

Ben’s heart was thudding against his chest as she pulled her phone out of her pocket, unlocked it, and handed it to him. He let go of her wrist to type his number in. He drop called his number, and then added it to her contacts under ‘Ben Solo’. He was under her skin - little did she know she was under his, and had been since the very first time she took his pulse. He handed her back her phone, his fingers lingering on hers as he leant close to her ear to say,

“You can stop contacting my dad to ask how I am now.” Boldly and definitely a byproduct of the whiskey, he pressed his lips to her hair. She froze, and he wasn’t sure if he’d crossed a line, until he leant back to see her eyes looking up at him, wide and pupils dilated. Her breathing was uneven, and Ben let himself entertain the idea that maybe, just maybe, she saw him the way he saw her.

“You should come by the gym. When you have free time. Train with us.”

“You think I need to go to the gym?” She asked pretending to be offended, trying hard to regain some semblance of control over her voice.

“No, I’d just like to show you what I do. I’ve already seen what you do.”

“As long as it doesn’t involve you getting punched in the back of the head again, I’m there.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow. I have the day off.”

“Come by then. The first class is at 9am.”

“I’ll be there.”

Ben looked over her shoulder and could see her table looking over at them, he grinned down and said, “I think your friends would like you back. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She nodded and walked back towards her table. Ben looked down at his phone, the unknown number missed call sitting in his notifications, he saved her name ‘Rey Niima’. He’d waited months to see her again, and now that he had, he could swear that hole in his heart was starting to mesh itself closed once and for all.

oOo

Rey’s alarm went off at 7am. She’d stopped drinking right after she’d seen Ben, so thankfully she was sans hangover that morning. She laid on her back and stared up the ceiling, trying to remember the way body had flooded when his lips found her hair. Rey had worked so hard not to just yank him down to her by the front of his leather jacket and kiss him. He had been jealous of Finn. She wasn’t sure what had given him the idea that they were together, but Rey had to admit the way his jaw had set in jealousy had filled her with hope that he might feel the same way she did. It was ridiculous, all of it. He had been her patient, and they hadn’t seen each other in almost six months. In that time she’d changed a lot. She was more confident at work, more sure of herself, better at dealing with the highs and lows of her job, better at asking for time off to rest, but she couldn’t let go of this damn man and his damn effect on her.

She pushed herself up and off her bed, pulling open the drawer she kept her exercise clothes in. Rey felt the nerves as she went through the drawer, her hands shaking as she wondered what would be appropriate - she settled on a pair of black sweatpants and a white cropped t-shirt, under which she wore a sports bra. She pulled her socks and shoes on, and moved into her kitchen to make a coffee. She make and ate quick breakfast and drank her coffee while she studied a chapter from the textbook she had open on her dining room table perpetually. Absent-mindedly she pulled her hair up into a single bun, the strays framing her face in a way she thought looked casual, so she left them.

She arrived at the gym a few moments before class started, standing in the doorway as her eyes fell on Ben. He was wearing a black t-shirt, which seemed to be his uniform - it had the gyms logo on the sleeve. He was crouched down in front of one of the many adolescents in the cleared space off to the side of the boxing ring. He seemed to be helping the girl tighten her gloves on. A few of the kids were stretching their muscles on the floor, others seemed to be practicing already, one of a pair wearing gloves and the other wearing pads. Rey smiled, Han had told her all about Ben’s program, but she’d also read a lot about it online. They had raving reviews from social workers and school staff about the program and the positive impact it was having on the community. Ben caught her eye and Rey’s knees almost gave out on her at the grin he gave her. He waved her over and she tentatively weaved her way through the group to reach him. He introduced her to the class, and they all said their various greetings back and she felt at home immediately. She moved towards the back of the group as Ben started talking, explaining what the plan was for their morning. Rey’s skin burned where his hand had touched her lower back.

They ran a few laps of the gym, and Ben joined Rey at the back of the group. Neither of them wanting to stride off ahead of the group, they paced at the back with the slowest of them, Ben not saying much but grinning at her all the while. They stretched for a while, as Ben asked how their weeks had been, getting various responses back from them all. He knew all their names, knew what grades they were in, knew who dropped them off and picked them up. Ben broke them all off into pairs, and she was left alone standing at the back of the group as the kids, Ben wandered over to her and said,

“Lucky you gets to work with me.”

“Lucky me indeed,” she said, tilting her head to the side to take all of him in. He passed her a pair of gloves, and she pulled them on. Very capable of tightening them herself, she let him do it for her, his fingertips brushing the inside of her wrist for a second too long. He pulled on the training pads, and smacked them together twice, nodding at her before saying,

“Give me your best, Niima.”

She did. She swung, colliding her right hand with the pad on his right. He looked taken aback at the strength. He nodded, telling her to go again. She did. They worked like that for a while longer, Ben calling out pattern instructions to the group every now and then, “ _Hook, cross, jab, jab_ ”, “ _Cross, cross, duck_ ”, and “ _Hook, duck, hook, jab_ ” before calling them all to take a break and have a drink of water. Rey was sweating, but the look on Ben’s face was worth it. He seemed in awe of her. She’d impressed him.

“You throw a good punch, Rey.”

“Not my first time.”

“You’ve boxed before?”

“Not exactly.”

Thankfully, she didn’t have time to explain because the group had reassembled and were waiting for more instructions. Ben organised them into a long line of pairs, and had one side of the line move onto a new partner each time the alarm on his phone went off. Soon after, they swapped sides. Rey’s back was aching from leaning down to meet the heights of her opponents, but found that the smile that was reaching from one side of her face to the other was immovable.

They finished close to 10am, and Ben dismissed the class, telling him he’d see them next week. They all skittered off, talking excitedly, leaving Ben to pick up the gloves and pads and put them away into a mesh bag. Rey loitered, helping him pick them up.

“What did you think?”

“You’re incredible.” She said, passing him the stack she had collected, “It was… incredible. They adore you.”

Colour rose in his neck, up to the tips of his ears peaking through his long dark hair, “Thank you, Rey. It means a lot that you came.”

Her mouth was moving before her brain had even processed it, “Are you free now?”

“Yeah, I don’t have another class until 1.”

“Can I buy you a coffee?”

A beat. He smiled at her again she she thought about how she’d never get over the dimples that plagued her dreams, “I was hoping you’d ask.”

Sitting in one of Rey’s favourite coffee shops, Ben stuck out like a sore thumb. He was tall and wider than she remembered him being - which wasn’t a surprise seeing as they all but watched him waste away in his hospital bed. He was as beautiful as she remembered, hard lines but soft features, a scattering of deep brown moles across his skin. She wanted to trace her fingers to connect them.

“What did you mean back there, when you said ‘not exactly’?”

“About throwing punches?”

“Yeah.”

He wanted to know about that, of all things? Their coffees came, and it gave her a moment to avoid the question, sipping from her large mug with both hands, before looking up at him and deciding that she knew too much about him, and he knew nothing about her - a power imbalance that needed to be rectified.

“I grew up in foster care. It’s, not exactly the easiest environment to live in. You end up defending yourself, one way or another.” She watched his face carefully, if he was shocked to hear that he didn’t show it. Master of his expression, he was as neutral as she’d ever seen him, and she realised he was giving her more room to talk, to tell him what ever she liked, “I had one, really awful, foster family. Plutt - he was the guy that took us all in - used to make us fight for dinner. Only one of us would get to eat. It was awful. If we didn’t fight, then none of us ate. So we’d fight, then the winner would share their food with the others when Plutt passed out. It was pointless. I’m sure my technique needs some work.”

She watched his Adams apple move up then down, he was fighting sympathy, she knew that much. She was relived when he didn’t give it to her. Instead he asked, “When I asked you, all those months ago, you said boxing was reckless…”

“I let my experience cloud my judgement.”

“Do you still think it’s reckless?”

“No. I think that with the right teacher,” she said pointedly, reaching her hand across the table to touch his, “It’s a wonderful outlet. You should be proud of yourself, Ben. Look at everything you’ve achieved in such a short time.”

“There’s still one thing missing.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, you." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mutual feels or what...


	8. I dream of you loving me

Han had the piece of paper in front of him, laid out on the granite countertop of the kitchen island. A glass of whiskey, and a red wine were the paper’s neighbours. His wife sat next to him, leaning into her hand as she watched him read. Han frowned after the first read, before starting the letter again.

_Dear Governor Holdo,_

_With my deepest regret, I am writing to inform you of my resignation from my position as Governor, effective immediately. My service to the people of this district over the last thirty years has been a tremendous honour, and one of greatest achievements. It is with a heavy heart that I acknowledge the misuse of resources for personal gain, and understand that I have disappointed the people of my district. I can only hope they see fit to forgive me, and accept my resignation as a sign of respect for their wishes._

_With warm regards and my deepest respect,_

_Leia Organa-Solo_

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Han asked her finally, having read the letter three times and followed the curve of the signature beneath her name to ensure that it was hers and not someone else’s, “I’m sure this would have barely any impact on your re-election-”

“It’s not about re-election, Han. I’ve been in politics for _thirty_ years, almost as long as our boy is old. I’ve missed too much, I’ve been gone too long. I _miss_ my _family_.” Her hand was cupping his face, looking into the eyes she knew so well, the face from her youth marred by lines and scars that hadn’t been there when she started her role in the government.

“Well, if that’s what you want Princess, I’m on board.”

“Good, because I already sent it to Amilyn this morning.” Leia leant her head against Han’s chest, her wine glass in hand and a small smile on her face. Han laughed deeply, Leia never did need his seal of approval.

“You put Organa-Solo.” A name he hadn’t seen since it had been written on their marriage certificate. For all intents and purposes, her name was Leia Organa - in the limelight, and Organa-Solo at home.

“It’s my name, isn’t it?”

oOo

Ben had heard about his mothers resignation only hours before it became public. She had called him, told him that the choice had been hers and hers alone, no one had forced her out. Ben’s gut had rolled at the news, and before he could ask if it had anything to do with Snoke she had already said, “Stop. I know what you’re thinking. Benjamin, it was time. The government needs from fresh blood. I’m only glad I could help while I was still there.”

“You did more than help,” he said as he paced his living room, “You did so much more than _help_.”

Their conversation ended soon after, and Ben had trouble concentrating while he took his morning class. Thankfully the Monday classes were usually the emptiest of the week, with everyone dreading the start to the school week, usually only fourteen or so students showed up and they were all exhausted from their weekends. It was quiet, so Ben turned up the music and let them work out their frustrations on the punching bags. He was having trouble thinking about how he saw his mother if not as The Governor. She had been in his contacts as such for the last decade. Now what was he supposed to list her number under? _Leia_ , felt wrong. _Mom_ , felt worse. The class ended and Ben wished them all a happy Monday and as he usually did, begged them to stay out of trouble. When they were all gone, Ben did what he usually did when his brain was overloaded. He wrapped his hands. Only this time, Phasma’s hand was on his shoulder, “Leave the bags alone today.” She nodded towards the ring and held the rope up for him. They stood opposite each other, gloves on, no mouth-guards - they had headgear on, that would be enough.

“Want to talk about it?” Phasma asked as they touched their gloves together - the stragglers in the gym, those who didn’t work 9-5 day jobs who loitered all morning as a hobby, had paused to watch them. It was rare that Phasma got in the ring. Even rarer that Ben did.

“With you?” Ben back-peddled as she launched her hook, grinning at the clear annoyance on her face, “Abso- _fucking_ -lutely not.”

“You would never be first,” She said, watching his footwork, she was commenting on his defensive strategy - never offensive, “You’re a pussy, Solo.” He tried to step around her, but she got a body shot in hard and it knocked the wind out of him. “You forget I know you backwards and forwards.”

Ben was doubled over, and as she leant down to gloat, he swung an uppercut to her jaw. He would have had the upper hand if she wasn’t so quick with her counterpunch. Ben groaned again, taking another step back. Phasma had a way of hitting back before the previous hit had even registered. Ben ducked her next hook, then the next, then stepped the next. She was getting frustrated, but he was still quicker on his feet than she was.

“Go the body, Solo.” She snapped, bored of his evasive action, “Do something _, anything!_ ”

So he did. Left hook, Ben made contact with the side of her head and she stumbled back so far that her back collided with the ropes. She ripped her headgear off and threw it on the ground. Ben was ready for her to snap at him, to scold him for something, but she didn’t. Phasma cracked a grin and said,

“See, if you’d fought like that, Hux never would have been able to get that hit in.”

“Now doesn’t that fill me with confidence for this weeks match.” Hux said from ringside, leaning on the ropes behind her.

“You were a messy fighter. Now you’re just messy, and a fighter. Big difference.” Phasma said, offering him her hand as she pulled him up and into the ring. “You want to go again, Solo?”

Ben had already pulled his head guard and gloves off. His heart rate was racing, his breath a little ragged, “No, think I’m done for the day.” He patted Hux’s shoulder as he climbed out of the ring, picking his bag up off the ground and made his way out of the gym and into the fresh air. He almost missed her. She was leaning against the doorway, wearing a pair of maroon scrubs and her hair pulled into a high ponytail. Rey.

“Hey,“ he said, confused, suddenly wondering if he’d forgotten something “did we have plans?”

“No. I just came by to say hi. I’m on my way to work, covering a mid-shift, thought we could get another coffee?”

“Yeah, yeah that sounds good. Sorry, I’m all sweaty though - I can go change quickly if you want?”

“I don’t mind. You looked good up there.” She nodded towards the ring where Phas and Hux were now sparring.

“You saw that?”

“Yeah.”

“How much did you see?

“Enough.”

“What did you think?”

“You’re more graceful that I would have imagined.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It was supposed to be.”

Ben grinned, before chewing the corner of his mouth to reign in how pleased he was that she was even here, let alone saw him spar with Phas. They walked together towards the same coffee shop they went to last time, their steps synchronising after a moment or two. They walked comfortably in silence until Rey said,

“I head about your mum.”

“Yeah,” He said, he’d assumed most people had heard by now, “She’s happy, I think.”

“That’s good to hear,” she smiled up at him, her hand bumping his as they walked. He didn’t waste any time linking his pinky around hers. “Do you think you’ll get to see her more?”

“I’m not sure if we could handle being any closer than we are right now,” Ben laughed. It was true, he and Leia were in more contact now than they had been in years, and it was uncomfortable for them. It wasn’t that Ben didn’t enjoy it to an extent, but it was still easier to talk to Han than it was to talk to Leia. He wondered how much that would change in the coming months. They were able to get the same table as last time, and Ben managed to pay for the coffees before Rey noticed - she scolded him for it but he ignored her protests.

As their coffees came, Ben was chewing on his lip again.

“Something on your mind?” She asked him, her coffee largely ignored.

“Yeah, I just - I wanted to thank you for telling me about - well about what you went through. I know it mustn’t have been easy, telling me that.”

“Actually Benjamin,” She said, his name from her lips like a sirens song, “Tell you was the easiest thing in the world. I think I’m uncomfortable with how little you know about me. I know so much about you - and I feel like it’s unfair.”

“So what you’re saying is, you’ll answer any question I have?”

She laughed suddenly, her laughter music to his ears, “Yes. That’s what I’m saying. Ask away.”

“Where did you and Finn meet?”

“My first week at Takodana University, our freshman year. I dropped my water bottle in a lecture for a physics class, it fell down eight rows and he caught it for me before it go to the bottom. He made some _really_ lame physics joke about it. I had been planning on dropping the class but I couldn’t after that. He’s been my best friend ever since.”

“Why did you pick Takodana University?”

“I got scholarships. I wasn’t picky.”

“What did you major in?”

“I majored in organic chemistry,” she said, screwing her face up at the memory, “Then I changed to molecular biology and it made my life so much better.”

“How long did you have to stay with Plutt.”

“Until I was 18.”

“No one intervened?”

“No. Things got easier though, when it was just me. Most of the kids that were there with me growing up got adopted or moved on to other families. Plutt kept me because I did scrap yard work for him.”

“Did he pay you?”

She laughed at that and gave him a look that said, ‘ _what do you think, Ben?_ ’

“How old are you?”

“I’m twenty-seven.”

“Do you care that I’m thirty-five?”

“You’re thirty-four.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Wait, you had your birthday?”

She looked upset, beyond what he would have imagined someone could be for missing someones birthday. He nodded, a smile telling her it wasn’t a big deal. She looked down at her coffee,

“I can’t believe I missed it.”

“Rey, it’s okay. It was months ago. You’ll catch it next year.”

“You sound pretty sure I’ll be around in a year.”

“I’m hopeful is all.” He felt the all too familiar heat rise in his neck at the comment that had slipped from his mouth, he wanted to restart the line of questioning, “What’s your go-to pizza order?”

“Thin crust pepperoni.”

“ _Thin_ crust?”

“Don’t judge me.”

“Urgh,” he groaned, “Cats or dogs?”

“Both.”

“Favourite movie?”

“Spirited Away.”

“Studio Ghibli?”

“Are you judging me again?”

“No, it’s one of my favourites too.”

Their coffees were long gone, and the time was getting too close to the start of Rey’s shift for comfort. They left, and Ben walked with her back to her car parked outside the gym. Before she could climb into the drivers side of her car, he pulled her into a hug, his arms engulfing her small frame. He was tense for a split second, where he felt as though she wouldn’t reciprocate the hug, but as soon as the worries appeared they melted away, her small but strong arms wrapping themselves around his waist, her cheek pressed against his chest.

“See you soon?”

“Count on it.”

oOo

The answering machine beeped: _“Mom, it’s Ben. I guess I have a few things I wanted to say to you about the resignation - honestly it’s probably easier if I say it to the machine, you know what I’m like. I wanted to say that I’m really proud to be your son. I’m sorry that I took my anger at the world out on you, blamed my bullshit on your absence. You were out saving the world, that’s all you’ve ever wanted to do. I think it took me too long to see that, but I see it now. I’m proud to be your son, and I’m glad that you’re taking a step back. I’ll be ‘round on Sunday night for dinner,”_ there was a pause that almost sounded like he’d hung up before his voice spoke again, _“I love you.”_

oOo

The coffee shop became a routine whenever Rey covered the mid-shift. She’d come by the gym, sometimes with warning, sometimes without. Ben was always pleased to see her - surprise or not. Ben loved to watch her cycle through the colours of her scrubs. The more he learned about her, the more he wanted to know. Rey filled the person shaped hole that in Ben’s heart, the part he had spent well over a decade ignoring, packed away in that cold hard unmovable box. When he finally kissed Rey -it was raining and she’d left her umbrella in her locker. He’d met her for lunch across the road from the hospital, a change of pace to their usual routine - a rushed meal because her pager went off half way through. He ran back across the road with her, shielding her from the rain with his jacket. When they had just about reached the automated hospital doors he pulled her under the awning, his hand on her waist, and kissed her. He knew he didn’t have time to waste, she had a job to do, but he couldn’t help it - the way she’d laughed at his attempts at chivalry, the way she’d bumped against him as they ran, the sound of her voice every time she used his name, he couldn’t hold it in any longer. One of his hands had cupped her cheek, the other her waist, as he leaned down into the kiss that she eagerly returned. Her pager went again and they pulled apart, back to the reality that was the storm and her pager and the flush across her cheeks.

“I -Ben, I-” She tried to get out, her hand shaking a little as she pulled her pager off of her scrub top pocket, reading the message.

“I know, go,” he’d told her, tucking one of her stray pieces of hair back behind her ear, “We’ll talk later.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your comments and kudos, honestly I read them all and appreciate it so much, it's what is keeping me writing. You're all incredible, thank you for joining me with this story. This chapter was weirdly hard to write, I hope I'm still doing our favourite dyad justice xx


	9. How do I tell you what you mean to me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean, I don't want to ruin anything - but smut do lay ahead.

Ben was lying down on his couch staring up at the ceiling, the fatigue of the day like a weight sitting square in the middle of his chest. He had left the curtains open in the living room, and since he had been home he’d watched the subtle glow of the afternoon light turn to darkness. One of his arms was lying off the couch and the tips of his fingers brushed the floor absentmindedly. His mind was on Rey, as it so frequently found itself recently.

He had fought the urge to message her all day.

He had wanted to say so many things to her.

But she was busy. She saved lives, and his could wait until she was done, until she was ready.

A knock at his door pulled him out of his Rey Niima focused train of thought. He frowned at the hour for a visitor, but figured it was probably Hux wanting to borrow something, Phasma visiting to complain about Hux, or either of his parents.

“It’s open.” He called out to the door, not moving from his position on the couch.

It wasn’t his parents, nor was it Hux or Phasma, “Now that doesn’t seem safe.” Rey said with a small smile, opening the door and leaning on it once it was closed.

Ben immediately pushed himself up onto his elbows at the sound of the familiar, honey-like voice. She was in his apartment. She was right in front of him.

“How did you know where I liv-”

“I know a guy.” She was talking about Han. Ben groaned and dropped himself back down onto the couch.

“Why are you still messaging him, just talk to me.”

“Are you jealous of your own dad?”

“Yes,” he said with a huff, watching her as she moved further into his apartment, his eyes raking over her scrubs (a lavender colour today), her hair (braided at the back of her head), and the bag she was placing down on the ground near the couch. She made herself comfortable in the armchair and Ben was hyperaware of the distance - or lack of - between them. Ben was close enough to reach his hand out and brush his fingertips against her knee, but he would wait. Wait to see what she wanted to say, what she was thinking, anything.

“You don’t need to be?”

“So you promise you won’t let him kiss you?”

“If you want,” she said, leaning her elbows onto her knees to get closer to him, “I won’t let anyone kiss me ever again - except you.”

“Liked that, did you?”

“You could say that,” she smirked at him, and his fingertips found her knee through the fabric of her pants, “Though I have a new rule.”

“I don’t like rules.”

“You can’t kiss me before I go to work. I spent far too much time thinking about you today.”

“Maybe that’s what I wanted.”

“Benjamin.”

“What about when you get home from work?”

“You can kiss me as much as you like when I get home from work.”

“Is that why you’re here? You want me to kiss you?”

“I do want you to kiss me,” she said, holding up her hand as he moved to sit up and move towards her, “But I wanted to talk to you about all of this first.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

So they talked. Rey told him how much she had been thinking of him since the very first time she saw him - how much she had hoped he would make it, how much seeing him when she got to work made her day, how she would come his hospital room more often when he was sleeping because she was worried that he would need something. Rey told him about meeting with Poe, telling him about her feelings, asking him what to do about feelings for a patient. She told him how she had tried to distance herself from the feelings she had, and how that proved impossible when she saw him in the bar - that he looked so beautiful and so at peace that she _should_ have just been happy for him, but a selfish part of her wanted a piece for herself. Rey told him about what having people in her life who she cared about meant - that she had a hard time trusting anyone, let alone someone who she wanted to give her whole self to. She told him about how Finn had served a role like that for her and always would - that if Ben had a problem with that, she didn’t know if she could make something between them work. Rey spoke, and Ben listened. In the time she had spoken, Ben had filled two glasses with red wine and the sky had darkened even more, the streetlights from outside giving the inside of his apartment a glow.

She had left a silence between them for a solid minute before she sighed and said, “I don’t usually talk this much.”

“When can I meet him?

“Who?”

“Finn.”

“I - uh - you and Finn?” She asked, like she hadn’t even considered it as an outcome.

“Well, you’ve met my family,” he said, placing his wine down on the coffee table, “It’s only fair I meet yours.”

“I would really like that.”

“I know I’m doing this all wrong, and I get it if Finn isn’t in to boxing,” he said, running his hand through his hair and over the back of his neck, “But Hux has this fight this weekend - he’s won his last few and he’s on a bit of a streak. I can get ringside seats, if you and Finn wanted to come?”

“You want us to go to a boxing match with you?”

“I know it’s not your ideal way of spending a Saturday, but we can go out for celebration drinks if he wins, and consolation drinks if he doesn’t.”

“Sounds like a win either way to me.”

oOo

Ben had left two tickets at the ticket box for Rey and Finn. He was sitting in the change room with Hux while he prepared for the match. Ben helped him tighten his hand wraps, talked him through his strategy. Hux’s opponent was notorious for being the first to throw a punch, but he had the stamina of a sixty year old pack a day smoker - all Hux had to do was let him throw but dodge as much as he could, light on his feet, and outlast him. Ben was sitting on the bench with Hux in silence, observing his pre-match routine for the fourth time in as many weeks, when Phasma’s head appeared in the doorway. A wash of familiarity came over him - how many times had he been in Hux’s shoes, how awfully the last time he had fought had gone, how all of it had led him to Rey.

“Come on, jockstraps. It’s time to go.” Phasma said, waving them out of the room. Hux led them out, and the crowd cheered as he walked down the aisle between seats towards the ring. This was what Ben didn’t miss about boxing for money, for fame - the performance of it. Hux had his hands up as cheers built. He climbed through the rope and Ben sat in his seat next to Rey, who had been staring at him the whole time. Ben leant over Rey to offer his hand to Finn, grinning at him as they shared an introduction over the sound of the cheers. Rey’s hand sat on his knee for the first three rounds, her voice growing hoarser and hoarser with each round that Hux won. Ben was out of his seat at the end of every round, cheering loudly with the rest of them. Hux was in his element, fighting better than Ben had ever seen him. The fourth round started much the same as the others, only this time Hux’s opponent tripped him as he tried to dodge the first punch, Hux stumbled forward, and Ben was out of his seat yelling. He had seen this before - he had seen the trip, the fumble, the hook that rounded for the back of Hux’s neck.

Ben screamed for Hux to duck, screamed so loud and so hard that his throat ached the second it was gone from his mouth. The fist moved in slow motion towards the top of Hux’s spine, and Ben felt as though he was watching a car-wreck. He vaguely heard Rey scream, her hand grabbed at his arm, and Ben realised why mere seconds after. Ben’s body had flown into flight or fight, and it had chosen to fight. Ben had his hands on the ropes and was trying to launch himself into the ring, but Rey had a surprisingly firm grip, Ben tried to rip himself from her but looked up to see that Hux had ducked in time, and he had rounded back with a left hook that sent his opponent to the floor. Knock Out. Hux had won. Rey had her nails digging into his forearm as she pulled him back.

Hux had turned to face Ben, and his expression was unreadable.

Ben’s dramatics had been lost in the cheering, the celebrating. Rey had pulled Ben into her as his body started to shake.

“I would have killed him.” He said, frozen to his spot. The adrenaline still pumping through his veins, “I would have killed him before I let that happen to Hux.”

“I know,” was all Rey said.

oOo

The five of them went out for drinks at The Base, letting Hux choose the site of his celebrations. They talked about highlights from the first three rounds but no one mentioned the near miss that won him the match. Hux pulled him aside when the two of them went to get another round from the bar.

“Thank you.”

“What for?”

“For what you would have done.”

“It - it was horrifying. I watched it almost play out for you, and I - god, I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, Hux.”

“Not even the guy that did it to you in the first place?”

“No.”

“You’re a good man, Ben Solo.”

“You’re a better man, you’re paying the tab.” Ben said, picking up the pitchers of beer they’d ordered before heading back to their table, letting Hux pay for their drinks. Ben had made an effort to sit close to Finn, asking him questions about Rey and his job, and Poe. Ben had quickly realised that Rey hadn’t told Finn where they had met - for his privacy. His heart had swelled at the idea of her protecting his rights so firmly, but he wanted her friends to know, know that he fell in love with her all the while he was shitting in a bedpan.

Ben stopped drinking early so he could drive everyone home. Hux and Phasma drank each other under the table until they were throwing darts in the back corner into the wood paneling of the wall instead of the dart board. Finn called it early - he wanted to go to Poe’s to see him after he finished work, he left with a firm handshake and a knowing smile to Ben, and a hug and a whisper to Rey. She had blushed deeply at whatever he’d said to her, before he’d left and Rey and Ben found themselves alone at their table.

“What did he tell you?”

“A seal of approval, of sorts.”

“For me?”

She nodded.

“Even after I almost threw myself into the ring for no reason?”

“It wasn’t no reason, you were worried about your friend.”

“Do you think it’s weird, that I care about him after what happened?”

“No.”

“You don’t?”

“I think that you are one of the most forgiving, and empathetic people I have ever met, Ben. It makes sense to me that you would see something in Hux that you see in yourself. You just want to protect the people you care about. It’s not weird. It’s one of the reasons I-”

“One of the reasons you…?”

“Nothing.”

“Rey,” he said, giving her a small frown as he reached forward, catching her chin with her index finger, “One of the reasons you what?”

“I’ll tell you one day.”

Ben wanted to press the question, but behind him he heard a glass smash and the all too familiar voice of the bartender ordering Phasma and Hux out of the bar. Ben groaned, leaning his head against the wooden grain of their table,

“We should take them home before one of them gets arrested.”

“I can come with you?”

“You need a lift too.”

“I want to see your apartment.”

“It’s - _2am_ \- and you’ve already seen my apartment?”

She raised an eyebrow at him with a smirk, and Ben suddenly found swallowing to be a great deal more difficult than before. He grabbed her hand and ordered Phasma and Hux outside. He apologised to the bartender and left a twenty dollar note on the bar to pay for whatever the fuck it was they broke, hoping it would buy him off to let them back in next time. He wrangled his two drunk friends into the back the car he’d borrowed from his dad, and let Rey take the front seat. Phasma and Hux argued in the back seat like a pair of toddlers all the way to Hux’s apartment, where he got out with a slam of his door, fumbling around with his key for longer than necessary. Ben drove Phasma across town back towards the gym, which Ben had only recently discovered she lived across the road from - she was far more secretive about her life than he had anticipated she would be.

“Finn said that he’s never seen me smile the way I smile at you.” Rey said, once Ben was driving them back towards his apartment, only able to hide the shake in his hands by keeping his grip on the steering wheel firm, “When he left, that’s what he said to me.”

“Is that true?”

“Yeah.”

Ben had asked her as they pulled into his apartment parking lot, “Are you sure you want to come upstairs?”

Rey had unbuckled her seatbelt and pushed herself so she was kneeling on her seat, facing him. She placed her hands either side of his cheeks, and for the second time, they kissed. This one wasn’t Ben unable to hold it in anymore, it was Rey sweet as honey and reassuring him. She wanted him, she was telling him, she wanted him as bad as he wanted her.

Ben had trouble getting her upstairs without her stopping to kiss him against walls and doors and at some point up the stairs it was just easier to pick her up and carry her the rest of the way. She beamed at him, and he rolled his eyes at her. He knew what she was trying to say. He’d been concerned all those months ago about walking himself up the stairs, and here he was, carrying his doctor upstairs so he could throw her down on his bed. Ben was thankful for having moved his bedroom furniture back into his bedroom a few weeks ago, he would have been embarrassed to have tried to take her to bed in the middle of his living room. He opened his door with ease, throwing the keys onto the kitchen bench as he found her mouth as soon as the door was slammed behind them. Rey wriggled out of his grip, and wasted no time on pulling his sweater up and over his head, making short work of his t-shirt in the same manner. She ran her hands over his chest, leaning up on to the tips of her toes to kiss the sharp bone of his jaw. His hands were on her waist, as he started to push her slowly into his bedroom, her tongue against his skin drawing delicate moans he didn’t know he was capable of from his mouth.

Ben’s hand went to her jeans, unbutton and unzipping them with one hand, he pushed them down her thighs, his fingertips dragging lightly over the velvety skin beneath the denim. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing up. Rey moaned at the touch, and Ben picked her up with ease and gently placed her on the edge of his bed. He pulled her shirt up and over her head, leaving her in only a lacy matching pair of underwear and bralette. Ben groaned, guttural and hungry, taking her face in both hands as he kissed her, kneeling in front of her on the bed, one hand moving all over her skin, wanting to know exactly what she felt like beneath him. She had her hands tucked into the waistband of his jeans, and she was tugging on them, unable to find the words for what he wanted. Ben undid his belt and pushed his jeans down, kicking them off of himself awkwardly without breaking their kiss. Ben’s brain was fogged with nothing but her, the smell of her shampoo, her perfume, the feeling of her bare skin under his hands, the way her fingernails dragged over him, begging in ways she couldn’t will her voice to.

Ben broke their kiss, his voice low as he searched her eyes, “You want this? You’re sure?”

“Benjamin,” she said, running her hand through his hair, “I want this. I want you. Please, please just…”

“Just what, Rey?”

“Just fuck me, already.”

Ben wasn’t sure he’d ever heard her swear, and for it to come from her in such a crude, and needy way, he didn’t know how he didn’t come right then and there. Ben stood up, his hand on her now bare waist as he pushed her back onto the bed, leaning on his elbows above her. He kissed just below her elbow, tracing the his lips down over her collarbone, and then over her breast - he mouthed her nipples through the lace material and Ben couldn’t have been harder if he’d tried. He groaned at the way they pebbled to the touch of his tongue, feeling the way her body wanted him was too much. His thumbs hooked into the waistband of her underwear long before his lips made it to her cunt. His tongue broke contact with her skin for only a mere second before it found its way against her wet folds. She moaned loudly, her thighs either side of his ears after a moment of tasting her, exploring her with his tongue. Rey was moaning his name over and over, her hand tugging gently at his hair in encouragement. His nose brushed her clit and he felt her whole body tense and relax all at once. He moved his mouth to pay more attention to her clit, sucking gently between his teeth as he looked up at her - eyes closed, mouth slightly open, she was arching her back, her breasts barely contained by the bralette now. One finger eased its way into her cunt and she let out a sharp breath, letting her legs fall open, encouraging him. His mouth worked on her clit, and soon enough he had two fingers fucking her, immensely enjoying the pant she was building in response to his touch. She tried to warn him, but there didn’t seem to be time before she came on his fingers, her cunt clenching hard around the digits. He gently pulled them out of her, waited until she opened her eyes, before sucking his fingers clean of her. She was flushed, trying to form full sentences, but failing miserably. Ben was much the same. She tasted like heaven, and the sounds she made were like home.

“Let me,” she tried to say, reaching to push his underwear down, but Ben stopped her,

“You do that and I’ll come all over you.”

“Isn’t that the point?”

“If it’s okay with you, Rey-“ he said, leaning down to her to kiss her, his hand gripping her chin, her taste still fresh on his tongue, “I’d like to last long enough to fuck you.”

She moaned, nodding into the kiss. Ben pushed his underwear down his thighs, not bothering to take them all the way off. He reached into his bedside table and pulled out a condom, opening the packet and making quick work of it - he wanted nothing more than to fuck her without it, but he figured that the heat of the moment probably wasn’t the right time to talk contraception or protection - there would be time for all that later.

Ben teased the tip of his cock at her clit, her writhing beneath him as she begged him - _begged_ him to fuck her already. He obliged her, slowly during himself in the wet, warm heat of her cunt. He let out another guttural sound, dropping onto his elbows above her as he slowly deepened himself. Their grunts and groans and whimpers merged into one, and the adjustment period didn’t take long before they were moaning to each other what they wanted - _that, like that, fuck, yes, oh fuck just - move, please move, oh my god yes, Ben, Rey, fuck._ Rey’s fingernails had dug into Ben’s shoulders, her legs wrapped around his waist as he fucked her, bottoming out with each thrust. Rey came with a scream, like it caught her by surprise, and Ben drove into her through it, her cunt clenching around him sending him off the deep end, coming with his dick buried deep inside her. He collapsed, managing to support his weight mere inches from her so he didn’t crush her small, delicate frame.

“I love you,” she panted, brushing the hair that was stuck to his forehead with sweat out of his eyes, his dick still inside of her, “That’s what I almost said earlier. That it was one of the reasons I love you.”

Ben pulled her close to him, reluctantly pulling himself out of her and quickly disposing of the condom. He pulled the blanket up and over them, her bare skin against his. “I love you, Rey. I am so fucking stupidly in love with you.”

Rey seemed to fit against him so perfectly. If he hadn’t been convinced that she was the only person in the world for him before, he would be now. Their hearts were beating in sync, the curve of her body meeting the contours of his own, their legs tangled, her skin cool where his was hot. She was his other half in every sense of the word - his equal, his soulmate. She had saved him in more ways than one, and every day he strived to be someone Rey Niima would want.

It seemed he was already that person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... let me know what you think?


	10. Formal introductions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter, I'm sorry it's taken so long!

Time passed in a way it never had before for Ben. Days turned to weeks, and weeks to months, and his mood never changed. He was happy, truly happy. Rey was his girlfriend, and had started slowly moving more and more of her things into his apartment with every night she stayed there - he even offered for her to just move in officially already, after all he lived closer to the hospital than she did, it only made sense. She had laughed, but didn’t outright reject the idea. Ben figured he would wait for the right time to ask again.

He’d had a session at Phasma’s to teach one Thursday, but his father had called him to ask for a lift - his car was at the mechanics running a faulty spark plug or something that Han could have fixed very easily, Ben suspected it was an excuse to buy his son coffee. Ben got Hux to cover for him, and when he turned up for his midday session perfectly caffeinated and fed from a breakfast with Han he didn’t have to pay for, when he saw Phasma in the ring sparring with someone very familiar.

_Rey_.

She had a pair of shorts on and a shirt he recognised to be his own, tied off at her waist. She had a helmet on, where Phasma did not. He was confused, but he watched as they moved around the ring, Phasma giving her pointers as they moved, each punch purposeful but lacking in any kind of rage. It was practical and well thought out, each of her punches. Ben leant against the rope of the ring when they started to slow down and stop all together.

“I’ve been worried about Hux stealing my girl, not you Phasma.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Solo.” Phasma smirked at him, holding the rope open for him to climb in, “Wouldn’t take much for me to steal your girl.”

“Want to fill me in?” He asked Rey, who was either flushing from the situation, or bright red from the exertion of stepping up to Phasma.

“I came by this morning to surprise you but you weren’t here,” She explained, pulling her soft helmet off, “Phasma offered to show me what you guys do.”

“You looked good,” he told her, “You could throw a little harder, but technique is good.”

“What would you know about good technique?” Phasma chimed in, and Ben took the helmet from under Rey’s arm and threw it at her, which she swiftly ducked. She laughed at the attempt, and then quickly jumped over the ropes and headed towards her office, leaving the two of them more or less alone bar the few lone gym users.

“Why weren’t you here? You have a morning session on Thursdays, don’t you?”

“I do, but Dad needed a lift and he managed to con a breakfast out of it.”

She laughed, unsurprised, “He’s a charmer that dad of yours. Hard to say no to.”

“He asks about you all the time.”

“He does?”

“Adores you. Says I’m doing him and mom a disservice by not bringing you around to theirs for a Sunday dinner.” Ben said with a roll of his eyes, his hand finding her waist as he pulled her closer to him. It had become a habit to want her as close as possible.

“Well, I wouldn’t say no.”

“You wouldn’t?

“I’ve got this Sunday off.”

“This weekend? That’s pretty soon. You sure you want to?”

“You don’t want me to come?”

Ben huffed in indignation, “That’s not it.”

“What is it then?” She was anxious, Ben could tell that much. Her shoulders had rounded and she’d dropped her eyes to his chest rather than meeting his own.

“They’re just… very intense. Very… nosey.” He said, hooking his index finger under her chin to guide her to eye-contact again.

“What could they possibly ask about that would make me uncomfortable?”

Ben hesitated, “Your family, I guess.”

“My lack of, you mean?”

“Not what I would have said, but yes.”

“I’m not ashamed of what I am, Ben.” She said, her hands laid out over his shoulders, “Besides, I have Finn. I have my coworkers. I have you. Family is what you make it, Benjamin Solo. If your parents want to ask about my family, I have plenty to tell them.” She was smiling up at him in a way that always sent a wave of warmth down his spine. She saw him as family.

“I’ll let them know we’ll be there Sunday then.”

oOo

Rey’s muscles ached from working with Phasma that morning. She climbed each floor of the hospital stairwell, carefully balancing the coffees Ben had bought her from the cafe across the road. One for her, and one for Rose. Ben had been by to visit too many times to not know how much Rose relied on caffeine, and how much better everyone else’s day was when Rose was caffeinated. Rey thought it was endearing, how much he cared about the people around her.

Ben had gone with Finn to a gun range. Finn’s suggestion. Ben had asked if she should be concerned about a possible intentional misfire from Finn. Rey had laughed, but she hadn’t given him an answer. To his credit, Ben Solo had still gone. He had been unflinching when Finn had shot through the paper target right through the middle of the head, through the gut, and through the area of the paper that surely represented the penis. Ben had been a gracious loser, and had let Finn gloat unrelentingly. Though Finn and Ben texted each other now. They were friends, and it filled Rey with warmth.

She had arrived at work one morning to find Ben holding a coffee for her, talking to Rose about something that both had them laughing.

“She’s much the same as she used to be. Still a stubborn asshole.”

“Doesn’t that just run in your family?”

“Tread easy, Solo.” Rose had warned, her eyes still reflecting her amusement.

They had been talking about Paige, Rose’s sister. It turned out that Ben had gone to high school with Paige, and probably Rose when she was a freshman, though the two of them didn’t ever cross paths. Rey had waited a moment before interrupting. It made her happy to see how interwoven he was in her life. How easily he fit in the gaps between her worlds.

Now though, she reached the paeds ward just in time for the afternoon ward rounds, wordlessly passing Rose her coffee with a smile, and tossing her bag in her locker, and pulling a maroon scrub top over the top of her white long sleeve shirt. She quickly printed off a patient handover sheet, and met with Rose and the rest of the team.

Rose coordinated the hand over and the round, before heading home for the evening. Rey’s list was much the same as yesterday,

Bed 6, Ellie Thomson, _8 weeks old, pyloric stenosis, 2 days post surgical repair. 1 on 1 nursing care._

Bed 7, Harry Reynolds, _6 years old, burn from scolding water pulled off of stove, day 5 of inpatient stay, needs bandages changed this evening._

Bed 8, Jamie Bigs, _4 years old,_ _gastroenteritis, day 2 of inpatient stay, requiring IV rehydration._

Bed 9, Bonnie Newman, _13 years old, type 1 diabetic admitted with diabetic ketoacidosis, day 6 of inpatient stay, needs diabetes education._

Rey followed the rest of the round to get an idea of who else was on the ward, and if anyone would need any extra help over night. She checked in with her patients and their parents, and let them know what her job was and what the plan was for the next few hours. She ordered a bunch of blood tests for Bonnie and Jamie, called the surgeons to ask about the discharge planning for Ellie, changed Harry’s bandages. She called the endocrinology team and asked for advice for Bonnie, they recommended a few patient facts sheets, and after her parents left Rey sat in her room with her for fifteen minutes and spoke to her about why she hadn’t been taking her insulin. She found out Bonnie had been teased for needing to give herself her injections at school, and Rey had given her the information the endocrine team had recommended, while reminding her that no one has the right to make fun of someone’s medical condition, and that by looking after her insulin, she’s looking after herself, and that’s something to be proud of, not ashamed.

It was midnight when she checked her phone to find a new message from Ben.

**Ben**

I just wanted you to know that I can’t get the image of you at Phasma’s out of my head. There’s something about you being woven into every inch of my life that I can’t get enough of.

I’ve let mom and dad we’re coming on Sunday and they’re thrilled. Honestly? So am I.

You called me family today and I haven’t stopped thinking about it.

I know you’re busy so you don’t have to reply to this, but I love you.

The message had her smiling like an idiot until a code blue ran at 2am, sending cortisol into every cell of her body. The teenager needed airway support and inotropes to keep their blood pressure up. It had taken forty minutes to get them stabilised, but for safety’s sake Rey had coordinated transferring him to the ICU.

By morning, Rey had burned through all of her jobs, tidied the patient files, made a pot of coffee for the morning nurses who came in early. Rose was back close to 7am, and had a coffee ready for Rey. Rose took notes quickly as Rey filled her in about the night, asking about any blood work that would need chasing during the day shift, and dismissed Rey before anyone else could ask her to do any jobs. Rey grabbed her bag and made for the stairwell. She was exhausted and desperate to get home.

It took her until she was already in her car and driving that she realised she wasn’t driving to her place. She was driving to Ben’s.

When she’d thought of home, she had thought of Ben.

oOo

Ben was sitting at his kitchen counter, drinking a coffee and scrolling through his emails on his laptop. Word of program at Phasma’s had gone national, and he had emails from boxing training gyms all over the country wondering if he would come and help them set up their own youth programs. He had a running list of the gyms who had contacted him who he needed to get back to. He was starting to write an email, when his front door opened and Rey strolled in, dropping her bag near the door, and taking a seat next to him at the counter, reaching for his coffee and taking a mouthful. She smiled into the mug as his hand came around her waist.

“Your offer still stand?”

“Which offer is that, Niima?”

“To move in with you.”

oOo

It took all of one day for them to pack up Rey’s small apartment. They woke up at 6am, and Ben made them coffees to take with them. They filled her car with boxes they found in the alley behind his building and once they made it to her (old) place, they taped the boxes open and loaded them with her books, clothes, photos, and anything else she wanted to keep. She listed all her furniture of Craigslist and all of it was gone by the afternoon and she’d made a few hundred dollars off of it.Rey paid for Chinese food and beers with it and they ate on the floor of her now empty apartment, and when they were done Rey climbed on top of Ben and rode him until they both came panting on the bare wooden floors.

They carried all the boxes of her remaining belongings into his apartment later that night, and stacked them in the living room, promising they would spend Sunday morning unpacking and finding the best place for all of it.

Ben had cleared out space in the wardrobe and dresser, and his bare shelves in his living room would be plenty of space for all her books. He had resigned himself to knowing that she would set up her textbooks and work notes on the dining table, and it didn’t bother him one bit.He had an image of her sitting at the dining table, her laptop open and a coffee in hand as she studied, wearing his shirt and her underwear. It made him feel warm that it would be a reality soon. She fell asleep on the couch as they rested from bringing the boxes upstairs, and he carried her carefully into his bedroom, thinking about how far he had come in the last twelve months.

He had been an angry prick a year ago. Hurt by his life and by the choices he had made, or not made. He didn’t speak to his parents or his uncle. He didn’t have any friends, nor anyone who worried about him. Between now and then, he had his life fall apart, and be put back together in a way he didn’t recognise. He had a program he was proud of, friends he could trust, parents who weren’t afraid of him, and a woman he loved more than life itself. Ben often tried to think where he would be if Hux hadn’t punched him the way he had. He reminded himself to thank the bastard next time he saw Hux.

Ben pulled the covers up and over the two of them, and Rey fell into his side in her sleep, wrapping her small arm over his torso and burying her head in his shoulder. She was so small, but in no way helpless. She was the strongest person he had ever met. She was his best friend, the person he trusted most in the world. They slept like that all night, Rey curled into his side and his arm around her. When they woke up, Rey made them coffee and they sat on the couch sorting through the boxes, the window open as the sounds of the city waking filled the apartment. Rey organised her books by colour, something that Ben found both endearing and obscenely carelesssimultaneously.

They got dressed and ready to go to his parents house in the early afternoon, stopping to pick up a bottle of wine on the way. Ben watched as Rey fidgeted at the front door. He considered using his key to open the door, but he figured that ringing the doorbell would give Rey more time to ready herself. The door opened, and Leia pulled Rey into what Ben was sure to be a bone crushing hug.

Rey hugged her right back.

Ben grinned, his hand on Rey’s lower back as the two women pulled apart, “Mom, I’d like you to formally meet Rey.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for joining me in this story. It was a slow burn, and writing the last chapter was hard. I have loved every second of this story and hearing from you about how much you liked it too.


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